Sidestep
by Unknown Soldier Shadow
Summary: Twist, one of the rogues that attacked the Tribe, has been taught from a young age that her own life is the only thing that should ever matter to her, period. So what happens when she breaks her only rule to rescue a handsome tom from disaster?
1. Chapter 1

**I am so full of crap, aren't I?**

**Siiiiiiiigh.**

**Anyway, this is my new project, _Sidestep_-astonishingly, it starts with an S. I know, I'm wiggin', too, for realz. And now I will tell you what it's about.**

**Remember waaaaay long ago in Outcast when those random rogues come and attack the Tribe? Well, therein, there was a tortoiseshell she-cat with lightning-like stripes on her face consistently mentioned named Twist. She attacked with the rogues a few times and then disappeared. So, when Erin Hunter was asked, "What happened to Twist?" she responded-get this-"Who?" **

**"WHO?"**

**So I decided to bring Twist into the limelight. **

**Not to mention I'm a total sucker for Warriors fanfiction. God, I'm such a nerd. XDDDDDDDDD**

**So this is gonna be a full-blown fic, natch. 100K or BUST.**

**Anyway, enjoy~**

* * *

It was a very quick decision.

Twist had always been levelheaded—or so her mother told her—so when the big-shot leader Stripes stood up and said they were going to go after the nearby cats—those that called themselves the Tribe—she hadn't been so sure of that. Sure Stripes was charismatic, but she remembered him when they were both kits. He'd always had to have the biggest piece of prey, the softest place of moss, no matter who already had it. It had rubbed her the wrong way for seasons.

But she'd gone along with it. Who was really to say anything against it? Kits were starving, queens were going unfed. It wasn't their fault, Stripes assured them all, that the situation was like this. Not when the Tribe had superfluous food and nothing to do with it. It just sharing—Stripes loved to throw that word around—just taking the leftovers.

So sure, she'd gone along with that too. Her belly was just as empty as the rest of them.

But then she'd gone into battle for the first time.

Screeching, writhing masses of cats, cats everywhere, pressing against her, clawing her, biting her. She couldn't stand it. The scent of blood had filled her nostrils, sharp and sweet and sickening, and she hated it, hated every moment of it. She didn't want anything to do with it. Never again. She never wanted to feel the slashing of claws down her flanks or feel teeth meet in her ear. It was repulsive.

But what had really been the deciding factor in the decision was the look in _his_ eyes.

That tom—her age, maybe close to twelve moons, a little over, possibly—had the most…empty eyes in the world. Dully glowing, like a flame seen through heavy fog, and just blank. No expression. No feeling. Nothing but bloodlust and a thirst to inflict pain.

Her claws had retracted into her paws and she'd just batted at him. Terror had choked her—the thought of those dead eyes watching her writhe in pain paralyzed her in fear. He'd quickly dispatched her with a few light scratches but it had been enough.

She'd had enough.

The night after it was over—Stripes surrendering pitifully, begging for the assurance that no harm would come to the kits and queens—they'd gathered farther down the mountain, a miserable little shelf that jutted out the wall by the stream.

Stripes, bloodied and ruffled, limped in front of them, his eyes resolutely locked on the path ahead of them.

Flick, a little brown twerp with ears disproportionally large compared to his body, whined, "Stripes, we need to go back and fight more. We can take them!"

And Stripes whirled on him, shoving him to the ground with sharp-clawed paws, until the smaller cat shrieked. "Feel that, Flick?" he snarled. "Feel those injuries? Do you want to go back and feel that some more? You want to have your fur clawed off?" He let him up, shooting the other cat a disgusted look. "Be my guest. But don't expect me to follow you."

Flick, wide-eyed and shaking, fell silently to the back of the group.

Flora shot him a sympathetic look and Twist pushed back the urge to roll her eyes. She was just as bad as Flick, Twist thought dully, wincing at the pain in her front paw. _Not to mention she thinks he hangs the moon, _she added.

Stripes' best cat, Hazard, padded up to him. "Stripes, we must rest," he said softly. "We can't take much more."

Stripes just stared at him, his expression freezing. "Keep moving."

Twist hated it when he looked like that. He was so far from the cat she'd played with when they were kits.

But Hazard was calm, his pale eyes tranquil. "We must rest," he repeated, stronger this time.

Stripes bared his teeth but Hazard did not back down. After a moment of tension, with the rest of the group looking on with a sort of dull anticipation, Stripes looked away, his hackles raised. "We will rest for a moment," he rasped. "No more than that."

Hazard's expression turned quickly to relief, and he dipped his head respectfully to his leader.

Twist knew why. Even from here, she could see the look in Hazard's eyes as he looked at Ruby. The she-cat's belly was heavy with kits, and it was glaringly obvious who the father was.

Padding over to where the other young cats were lying, Twist collapsed on her belly, flicking her tortoiseshell tail over her nose and closing her eyes. She felt the warm weight of a cat settle down beside her but didn't even acknowledge the presence of another. That's really how it was in the gang, as Stripes liked to call them: you warmed your brothers and protected them, but your own safety came first. If an eagle swooped down that instant, the cat who was lying next to her would run without a backward glance at her. And she would do the same, without a second thought.

But she couldn't sleep that night. Tossing and turning, she kept her eyes closed, hoping that sleep would come and take her, away from the pain of her wounds and the abrasiveness of the gang and somewhere else. Her mother had liked to tell stories about it, whatever was away from this mountain, and how there was grass and green and trees. Twist had seen trees, of course, but they were scraggly, clinging to the rock edges of the mountain's face with tenacious claw-like roots. She'd seen the color green—her mother's eyes were green, though her own were amber. But she'd never seen grass. And, she admitted to herself, opening her eyes to look up at the cold sky and shivering, she would very much like to see grass.

And that's really when the idea clicked into place in her head.

She got to her paws, her breath coming in wild pants as the realization struck her: she didn't have to be here. She didn't have to be with the gang. There was no point to it, that was clear now—she had no kin here, no friends either with her newly-found cynical personality. What was keeping her here?

_Loyalty_? She nearly laughed aloud at the prospect. Did any cat here really have attachment to the gang? Would any of them really stay here if they had anywhere else to go?

But she bit her lip, looking over to where she could see Stripes' ragged gray fur. What would he think when he awoke to find her gone? Would he try and find her? After all, they _used _to be friends—nearly littermates, as far as she recalled.

Then she imagined the situation reversed and made her decision.

Stepping lightly over Flora's trailing tail, past Yarrow's bulging belly, shuffling around Spence and Lily and Fang and Juniper and Climber, and toward the edge of the rock cliff, she stopped at the edge, her paws nearly hanging off the edge. She looked down over the edge, feeling exhilarated by the rush of wind that pressed back her whiskers and flattened the fur of her face. She closed her eyes, loving the sensation. It almost felt like being free.

"What are you doing?"

She whirled at the furious voice. Stripes stood behind her, his fur spiked with outrage. Hiding her fear, she said, "Hello, Stripes. How are you?"

"What," he repeated, "are you _doing_, Twist?"

She turned away from him, back to that dazzling cliff face. "Leaving."

"Leaving!" He sounded stunned.

"Yes. Leaving." She looked at him, seeing the confusion on his face. "I don't want to be here anymore. I want to go home."

"This _is _your home," he snapped, his momentary lapse in anger gone. "The gang is your home. We're—"

"Oh, I swear if you say 'a family' I'll be ill," she hissed, furious now. "We aren't a family, Stripes! This is not a family. A family is warm and comforting! This is just…it's not. The gang is a group of nobodies with nowhere to go, no den to live in, no lands to hunt in. Those Tribe cats kicked us out of the only place we've ever really been settled. I don't want to do this anymore! I don't want to wander around!" She was on a roll now, her brow furrowed and her voice taut with fury. "Don't you get it, Stripes? We're nothing, and we'll always be nothing."

His eyes were narrowed to furious slits. "Shut up!" he spat. "You're just upset that we lost this time, but next time—"

"Next time what?" She was so angry she was shaking. "Next time we'll win, is that what you were going to say? Because I don't care."

He just looked at her, like he didn't recognize her.

Taking a deep breath, she added in a lower voice, "You're the one that always says to value your own life above everyone else's, aren't you? Well, this is me doing that."

He flattened his ears but said nothing.

She walked right past him, nearly brushing his shoulder. Stopping on the edge of the decline, she said over her shoulder, "Goodbye, Stripes."

He didn't turn around. She nearly walked away before he spoke. "If you leave, you will always be nothing, Twist. You're nothing without the gang. And we won't miss you."

She didn't stop walking.

Twist didn't break composure until she was far out of Stripes' range. Falling heavily onto the cliff face, pressing her shoulder against the freezing stone, she closed her eyes tightly shut and just stood there.

_What are you thinking? _It was nearly the frozen-time of the year, and snow would soon be covering the entire mountain face. Without the warmth of another cat, how would she survive? She could hunt for herself, sure, but it was so much easier with another cat.

_Well, you can cut that out right now, _she told herself, shaking her fur out as if that would get rid of the thought. _No one's here to help you. You're on your own, just like you wanted. _

The moon was full and round as she made her way in a random direction. She'd never really been good at direction, but maybe if she walked toward where the ground was lower, she'd find some path to lead her down…

A river murmured nearby—that would be a good thing to know. Water meant prey, and prey meant survival. She cataloged it away in the back of her mind, trying to make a mental map of the terrain so far. The mountain still extended onward and seemingly infinitely upwards, disappearing into a dizzyingly high cloud that she could see the outline of, backlit silver by the full moon.

She was startled out of her musing by a mumbling voice. Darting into the nearest crag in the rock and pressing her flank to the icy stone, she peered out around the edge of the sharp rock, feeling her legs tremble.

_I am not afraid, I am not afraid, I am not afraid. _She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart hammering in her chest, hating herself for falling back on old, well-worn patterns. _I am not afraid, I am not afraid, I am not afraid. _

Only once the nausea had passed did she open her eyes.

She saw the shadow before she saw the cat, creeping up the edge of the rise. It was a large, slender cat, with tall pricked ears and a sweeping plumy tail. She could tell it was a tom by the width of the shoulders, but she couldn't make out the color.

He padded carelessly, with the ease of one who doesn't know how dangerous the situation was. His pawsteps were not well-placed, and as she watched, he stumbled a few times, his paws catching on the cracks that she could see even from her distance.

As he walked into a pool of moonlight, she saw that he had beautiful fur—red-brown and luxuriously thick, with tan banding on his long legs and a white belly and paws—and dark eyes.

_He's handsome. _The thought struck her quickly and embarrassingly, and she felt stupid for thinking it at all.

He trotted on, unaware of being watched, until he was right alongside the river.

_He doesn't see it, _she realized. Two more pawsteps and he'd be far over the edge, tumbling with the turbulent water down to the bottom of the mountain, and he surely wouldn't be alive by then.

"Hey!" she shouted, dashing out from her hiding place and heading right for him. "Look out!"

He turned to her, his eyes a bright and vivid green, and looked astonished. "Huh?"

"The river!" She stopped in front of him, not even out of breath. "It's right behind you. Don't go close to it."

"Oh." He didn't sound very concerned. "Behind me?" He turned, far too quickly, and lost his balance.

"Idiot!" she spat fiercely, reaching forward to sink her teeth into his thick neck fur.

His weight nearly pulled them both over, but Twist dug in her claws, eliciting hair-raising screeches from the rough stone. Her neck ached as the tom flailed wildly.

"Hold still," she muttered through her mouthful of fur. "You'll be the death of us both."

He stopped thrashing, but his chest heaved, his breath in her face as he panted hard. His eyes were very close to hers; she nearly had to cross her eyes to look at him. "Okay," he breathed. "Okay. Pull me up, please."

_Obviously. _Twist yanked back and he came jerking over the edge, his shoulder bumping along the rock. Making sure he was firmly on the flat surface, she dropped him. Without a backwards glance, she began to walk away.

She hadn't gotten too far away before he yelled, "Wait!"

Not even turning around, she felt him come padding up beside her. "Thanks a lot," he said, puffing a little. "I thought I was a goner there for a moment."

"You would have been," she said roughly. "Be more careful. You almost died."

"Yeah, but you saved me." His voice was open, friendly. Disarming, Twist thought. "Thank you so much. I'm not used to walking around up here, you know. I haven't been up in the mountains for more than a few days, if you can believe it."

_I can totally believe it. _She ignored him, hoping he would go away.

"It's so big here," he continued, seemingly unaware of her cold silence. "So wide. The air is colder up here, too. Not like down there."

"You might want to be on your way," she hinted.

He stopped in his tracks for a moment, one white paw in midair. "But now I owe you! You saved my life!"

Twist narrowed her eyes. "You don't owe me anything. Just go away."

His voice was hurt when he replied, "But I want to pay you back. I wouldn't even be here right now if it wasn't for you." He padded up next to her, his long tail swishing behind him.

Twist flattened her ears and ignored him, but the tom just bounced alongside her.

"What's your name?" he asked cheerfully, his brilliant green eyes on her.

Fighting a growl in the back of her throat, she countered suspiciously, "What's yours?"

"Declan," he answered easily.

"Deck-what?" She shot him a sour look, not sure if he was being serious.

"Declan," he repeated. "It's Declan."

"What kind of stupid name is that?" she spat crossly. "Did you just make that up?"

He chuckled, flicking his tail behind him. "You're mean," he said pleasantly. "But yes, that's my real name. A good name, too. It just rolls off your tongue. Go ahead, say it. Declan. Deck-lan." He drew the word out ridiculously, and Twist felt her whiskers twitching.

Noticing that, his bravado increased dramatically, and he curled his bushy tail over his back, slanting his eyes toward her and purring. "So what's your name, pretty she-cat?"

That soured her mood quickly. "It's really none of your business. I didn't ask you to come along."

"Ah, but you saved me from that thing back there." He tilted his head to point to something vaguely behind him.

"That thing, as you so quaintly put it, was a _river. _What kind of idiot just wanders off the edge of a cliff? Didn't your mother teach you sense?"

"I did have something distracting me." He looked at her pointedly.

She sighed heavily, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Go away, tom. I don't have time for this."

"It's not Tom," he corrected. "It's Declan. Is that so difficult to comprehend?"

Twist just kept walking, one ear twisted behind her head. This was annoying—all she wanted to do was just leave that bunch of stupid mouse-brains and what's the first thing she finds? Another mouse-brain! Stars above, was it too much to ask for a little peace and quiet?

"It's fine," he said suddenly, surprising her with the gentleness of his voice. "You don't have to tell me your name. We can just walk together, if that's alright. I'm afraid of the dark." Almost hesitantly, he asked, "Are you?"

Surprising herself, she answered: "I'm not."

"No?" Now that teasing note was back in his voice. "What are you afraid of, then?"

"Nothing," she nearly growled, and he laughed.

"Surely you're afraid of something."

"Look, that's kind of a private matter, don't you think?" She shot him a dirty look. "So leave well enough alone."

"Ouch." He pretended to flinch. "That was mean."

Twist repressed the desire to curl her lip. "Sorry," she said, making it clear that she was anything but.

Declan shook his head. "I'm not used to seeing such cross she-cats. Are there more like you around here, because if so, I'd like to go the other way."

Twist sighed. "No, there aren't any more like me. I'm absolutely unique."

"Well, that's good," Declan said agreeably, "because I think I'd like to get to know you better, mysterious she-cat."

She stopped cold. "Get to know me?" she echoed.

"Yeah," he said easily. "You know, friends. We could hang out together, hunt, fish, travel. It'll be fun!"

She was dumbfounded. No one had ever wanted to be friends with her before. In the gang, you had brothers and sisters—or so they were called, though Twist had no blood brothers or sisters—but never friends. The most important thing is one's own survival. Friends meant that you had to look out for someone else, not yourself all the time. What did that really mean? Could she even _have _friends? What if she wasn't built for that kind of relationship?

But Declan's dark green eyes were bright with emotion. She tried to imagine herself looking like that at another cat and couldn't. She couldn't even identify what emotion he had in those eyes.

_You're nothing without the gang. _That's what Stripes had said.

Teeth gritted, she knew what she had to do. Everything—_anything_—to be different from the gang.

"I'd like that a lot," she said, her voice steady, surprising herself once again. "It's nice to meet you, Declan. And the name's Twist."

* * *

**Well, hopefully that wasn't too awful. And be prepared for me not to update as beastly as I used to, 'cause college is very busy-making. Especially when you're a writing major. Siiiiiiiiigh. **

**Anyway, hope you liked it. Twist isn't even freaking listed as a character under the FFnet thing, so...I don't know. That should change. Let's all band together and give Twist some love! (No, not in that way, you sicko.) **

**XD**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	2. Chapter 2

**Heeey, guys. Did you know that Taylor Swift has a new album coming out in mere _days?_ Cue Shadow's happiness. XD**

**Fwirl - Oh, I wonder why you think that? And I wonder why it is like that; I mean, _you _surely aren't into angst, are you? XD**

**LegendaryHero - Haha, welcome, new reviewer! Oh, heck yes, I'm aiming for 100K: already hit it twice already~ :3 Yes, it's pronounced DECK-lin, kinda like Strickland, but like if it was spelled "Stricklin." Does that help? ^.^**

**Amazingly awesome person - Hee~ Yes, I do like Declan, also. And you'll seeeeef~ :D**

**xxSnowfirexx - INORITE? I couldn't help but write more fanfiction, and the Warriors fandom is the one that I'm most comfortable with; the canon is just so easy to work with, y'know? Oh, gosh yes. College is kinda kicking my butt right now, 'cause I've got Lit and Creative Writing and Theories of Study and Gen Eds. *-* I might die. XD Are you gonna do NaNo this year? 'Cause this is totally gonna be my NaNo: well, part of it. XD**

**CookieLivcat - New reviewer! HEEEEEEEEEY~ Haha, I know, right? It was in one of their little online chat thingies. I mean, I understand that there's a lot of characters, but come ooooon. XD**

**And onto the story!**

**(Also, sorry for my colon-murdering. For some reason, when I write ANs, FFnet refuses to let me use long dashes. I swear I actually do know how to use a colon properly! XD)**

* * *

When Twist awoke the next morning, she couldn't understand a few things. Firstly, there was a warm weight pressed into her side; second, light was shining into her face; and thirdly, her belly was yowling with hunger because she hadn't woken up with the rest of the gang.

Squinting through the light, she yawned widely, stretching her claws until they pressed into something—or some_one,_ she realized as the cat let out a muttering sleepy growl.

"Cut it out," Declan whined, curling his thick tail over his nose and scooting closer to her. "I'm trying to sleep."

Twist sat up very suddenly, lifting a cloud of dust. Coughing, she glared down at Declan. "I told you to stay on your side!" she spat.

She'd clearly outlined the spaces in the small cave; everything on the side closest to the river was hers, and the opposite was his. But he stared up at her with bleary green eyes, blinking slowly in the harsh light.

"I was cold," he whined, closing his eyes and burrowing into his tail fur, ignoring her indignant hissing. From this distance, she could see the pale tan markings around his eyes, making the green seem even darker as he peeked up at her with one eye. "Are we going back to sleep now?"

She frowned at him. "You can sleep all you want. I'm out of here." She turned and stalked out the mouth of the little cave, head down below her shoulders, glaring at nothing. She'd wanted to be friends—she really had—but she'd underestimated what an idiot this tom was.

"Wait!" he cried, launching himself after her. He tripped over his own paws and came tumbling out of the den, skidding down the short decline on his back, before coming to a stop just to the side of her, belly-up. "Don't leave me," he pleaded, eyes wide. "I don't want to be alone. I got lucky to find you! It must be fate!"

"I don't believe in fate," she said coldly. "You should make your own path. Luck is for suckers."

"Ah, ah, but if that's true," he said, wriggling around until he was right-side up, his back coated with dust, "then why did you save me?"

That stopped her. "Are you going to keep nagging me about that forever?" she spat. "It was all action. You decided to try and take a dirt-nap and I decided to save you. That's it."

"But why?" he pressed, shaking out his thick fur and padding behind her, amused now. "Why did you save me?"

Twist rolled her eyes, silencing a groan. _You're lucky now, tom, because I've started to regret it. _"Look, I don't want to be blunt—"

"Too late," he muttered.

"—but I have something to do," she finished, ignoring him completely. "And it doesn't involve you."

"I can help you out," he suggested, eyes bright at the prospect. "You could use some extra muscle, since you're lacking on your own. Seriously, I thought the wind would carry you away like a dead leaf."

"Thank you for such kind words," Twist said sardonically. "But I can do it by myself."

She was a few fox-lengths away when he spoke again: "You want to get to the bottom of the mountain? I can show you the way there."

She whirled to face him.

His pointed face was smug. "Knew that would get your attention," he said, chuckling irritatingly. "I came from there—I know how to get back."

Twist hesitated, not sure whether or not to believe him.

Declan seemed to sense this, because his eyes narrowed just a bit. "It's true. I wanted to come and see what was going on up here in the mountains. But now that I've seen it—and it's _awful_—I'm more than willing to go back. So?" He curled his tail over his back, slanting his head to the side to peer at her out of the corners of his eyes. "Coming?"

Gritting her teeth and hating how the situation had reversed, Twist asked, "How am I supposed to know that I can trust you? I don't even know you. And gang brothers are supposed to—" She stopped immediately, wishing desperately for the words back.

But Declan's ears had pricked. "Gang brothers?" he echoed.

Cursing herself internally, she muttered, "It's nothing. How long would it take to get to the bottom of the mountain?"

"Mm. Three moons."

"Three moons?" she yowled. "Are you serious?"

But he was laughing. "Really, you're far too easy." Sighing slightly, still chuckling, he amended, "Three _days_. Is that good enough for you?"

"And what, may I ask, do you want in return for my cooperation?" She had her ears pressed so hard to her skull that they were starting to ache.

"Oh, nothing big. Just your eternal gratification and a life-long promise of servitude." He looked amusedly at her, but good-naturedly. "Kidding. I don't want anything, really, but companionship. I'm awfully lonely. It's so hard being me sometimes." He sighed, letting his tail droop. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't so devilishly good-looking. Life would be so much easier if I wasn't so beautiful."

Twist thought she would be ill. _Geez, this tom is full of himself. He's got to be kidding, though—who's really that conceited?_

"What are you thinking?" he asked her, eyes bright despite his complaints of tiredness.

"I was thinking of how weird you are," she said honestly.

He laughed. "Am I abnormally weird, though? That's where I'd like to draw the line."

She thought about it for a moment, and then said, "No. Not abnormally. Maybe extraordinarily."

Blinking in surprise, Declan gasped, "Did you just make a joke?"

Rolling her eyes, Twist just focused on the path in front of her. "Are you going to lead the way or not?"

Purring now, Declan trotted out in front of her, his long tail waving from side to side. "We're heading in the right direction. We need to go the direction the sun sets. It'll take us down to that place."

Pricking her ears, Twist asked, "What place?"

"Mm?" He didn't seem to be paying attention now as he stepped confidently over the rocks. "You know," he said vaguely. "That place. With those big caves that the things live in."

_Well, that's succinct, _Twist thought dryly. _Honestly, something is wrong with this cat. No one in the gang was ever this…odd. He must be mad. He's gotta be missing something from his head._

Declan didn't seem to think anything of it—he was looking around at the landscape, his bright eyes wide with curiosity. Twist watched him out of the corners of her own eyes, sudden suspicious. What if he was acting like this just so he could lead her away and then kill her? What if he _really _was off in the head? Her mother had always warned her to stay away from strangers, and this tom was certainly strange.

But oddly enough, some part of her discounted that possibility. Declan seemed young—probably her age or a little older—but there was something…innocent about him that she couldn't place. Maybe it was the look of wonder in his green eyes or the lightness of his step. Whatever it was, it was both infuriating and fascinating, and Twist was confused. She already was in too deep with this tom—she needed to split from him as soon as possible. She saved his life and he would save hers—indirectly, of course—and then they would go their separate ways. She had no need for this tom; she could watch her own back.

Declan was laughing now; small pebbles rolled away from his front paws, and he curled his tail over his back in amusement. "Look, Twist," he yowled, striking out at one and sending it shooting over the edge of the cliff. "Come on."

"What?" she asked warily.

"Come play!" He looked up at her, eyes shining with excitement. "See if you can get a pebble farther than me."

She twisted one ear behind her head. "I don't want to. I don't play. I'm not a kit."

"Aw, come on," he whined. "It's fun. Really. Watch." And he kicked out at one, swiping it clean off the ground and into the air, where it soared at least three fox-lengths over the edge. Despite herself, Twist was impressed. But that didn't mean she would show it.

"You can play by yourself," she said dismissively, lifting her nose.

He didn't look disappointed, but determined. He shoved out at her, shouldering her aside with a high-pitched screech. Startled, she lashed out at him, tail fluffed to twice its size in her surprise. Her paws drifted through his soft, thick fur harmlessly: she hadn't extended her claws.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice a taut hiss. "You could have knocked me over the edge!"

"Don't be dramatic," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You weren't anywhere near the edge, you kit."

"Kit!" She was speechless.

Eyes narrowing wickedly, Declan said, "Yeah. Kit. You're a kit." Raising his voice, he added, "Everybody within earshot, I would like you to know that Twist here is a kit. Thank you for your attention."

She just gave him a disparagingly look. "You're the kit," she snapped. "And who are you talking to? You'll wake up every predator in the whole mountain!"

"I'll just have to keep yowling until you decide to play with me. Really, it's your choice."

Gritting her teeth, she turned her head sharply away, growling low in her throat. This tom was far more trouble than he was worth, obviously. _Only a few more nights, _she told herself, her resolve shriveling at the prospect. _Just a few more nights and then you'll be free of this dolt._

Declan was looking at her expectantly, tail twitching, whiskers wiggling. "Well?"

Hating herself, Twist said, "Fine. I'll play."

He gave a delighted little leap that made him look even more kittish than usual. "Excellent!" he purred. "Okay, you go now." Reaching out with one paw, he nudged a pebble over to her, all crouched down with his shoulders tensed up as if he was going to pounce.

Twist lined up the pebble with her paw and swiped at it. It flew through the air before skidding down the mountain, nestling in a tiny crack of the wall. She peered down at it, disappointed. Surely she could hit a rock farther than that. Pulling away, she found another rock—this one nearly the size of her paw—and, backing up, lashed out at it, putting her entire weight behind it. The rock spun away from her paws along the sheer edge of the mountain, wobbling on the line of the cliff as if there was a wall there, before pitching over and clattering down the mountainside. Satisfied, she sat down and twisted her head around to look at Declan smugly. "Beat that."

She didn't have to ask him twice. He'd already managed to wrest a rock from the ground, heaving backwards onto his haunches before nearly losing his balance. Setting a paw on top of it and looking down at her imperiously, he declared, "I can push this rock down the mountain—all the way down."

Disbelievingly, Twist turned from him to the cliff. A river flowed lazily a dizzyingly long way away—it would be impossible to reach it. Smirking, she said, "Yeah right. Let's see you try."

Declan chuckled, scratching his claws over the surface of the rock before lining it up with the edge of the cliff, his expression genuinely determined. Twist took several steps back, her tail flicking with excitement despite herself. When was the last time she'd been this riled up about anything—and of all things, why was it something as stupid as pushing rocks down the side of a mountain?

With a grunt, he shouldered the rock forward, leaping after it to watch it go. Twist joined him, mouth dropping open with astonishment as the rock quickly took out a small tree that was in its way, ripping it out of the ground up to the roots. It picked up even more speed, undeterred by the friction trying to stop it, until it finally lodged itself in a crevice, lifting a cloud of dust and sending several angry birds to the air in fright.

Declan laughed, loudly, falling onto his haunches and curling his claws into the stone to keep himself upright. "Wow!" he exclaimed, breathless with laughter. "I didn't expect it to go that far!"

Caught up in it all, Twist pointed out, "Well, it didn't go all the way to the bottom, so you lose, Declan."

"Ah, true, true." He shrugged. "It was worth it, though."

Twist looked at the rock, still mashed into that little crack. "I wonder if we could get it loose," she mewed. "It's not that steep down there."

Declan perked his ears. "We could push another rock down there and try to free it. I bet we could find something to push it out."

Twist turned around, searching out a rock as large as Declan's, but couldn't. Frowning, she swept around the little ledge, picking at the ground, trying to pull loose any of the stones there but couldn't.

Declan, who hadn't moved from his position, said, "I bet we could just go down there and pry it loose ourselves."

Twist padded back to his side and followed his gaze. There were a few pawholds, surely, but it would be difficult to get down there. "Those roots could prove useful," she mused, nodding to the tree the rock had pulled loose. "We could grip those and—" She cut off suddenly, aware of what she was suggesting and how stupid that would be. It was just some dumb rock, definitely not worth risking shimmying down there and freeing. For what? To watch it fall down the mountain and probably get stuck again? She shook her head sharply, annoyed at herself. "Forget it," she muttered. "It's not worth it. Let's keep moving."

"But this was so much fun!" he complained, leaning far over the edge to look at the rock.

"Hey." She flicked out her tail in front of him. "If you go down there and get stuck, I'm leaving you. I won't risk my life for another cat."

He looked surprised. "Why not?"

She was stunned momentarily. Why not? "Because to me, my life is more important than yours," she said bluntly.

"Ouch. That's harsh." He frowned.

"It's true," she just said blithely. "So go ahead if you want—I won't save you again."

Declan cast one more glance down at the rock before sighing heavily and getting to his paws. "I guess you're right."

Twist nodded minutely, feeling relieved for some reason. Why should she care if this tom dove down the mountain anyway? She made to move away, but Declan turned suddenly toward the cliff side and leaned far over it, pulling at something with his teeth. With a curious jolt of surprise, she noticed he was pulling at a bush clinging to the side of the rocky ledge. Sighing heavily, she started to say, "What are you—" but the words died in her throat as something came surging up out of where the roots attached, flying into her face, into her eyes and ears and down her open mouth.

She shrieked, writhing wildly away as whatever it was stung at her, biting at her face and the tender skin of her throaft, crawling through her pelt and leaving white-hot stings behind.

_Ants! _But not normal ants, not the kind she'd picked off of crowfood whenever she'd been starving to death. No, these ants had _wings. _They landed on her face, swarmed through her thick tortoiseshell fur, their tiny legs and wings and antennae brushing at her and making her half-mad with pain and panic.

She reared onto her hind paws, swiping at her nose, where some of the little devils had sank their fangs or claws or whatever into the pink skin. Coughing and choking, spluttering away the ones that clung to the inside of her mouth, she jackknifed sideways, colliding with Declan, who was in an obviously similar predicament. Taken by surprise, he turned to her, blinded by the ants of his face, and struck out at her.

She lost her balance. Screeching, she felt her paws slide from under her and suddenly she was in the air. Now terrified, she pried back her eyelids that she'd closed against the ants and saw the slanted stone rushing up to meet her.

She hit the mountainside with enough force to rattle her teeth. Tumbling tail over paws, she fell down the slope, hitting branches and rocks alike, bruising her skin beneath her pelt that still swarmed with ants.

_Oh, stars above, _she thought wildly. _I'm about to die. I'm going to die because of a stupid tom and ants. _

But she didn't die. She lifted off the ground once more, shrieking, and landed face-first in the river.

The shock of the cold water made her gasp, which she instantly regretted. River water rushed down her throat and into her lungs, freezing and bitter. Hacking, she twisted around wildly, the ants still crawling across her muzzle, and managed to break to the surface.

Her first breath felt like pure relief.

Blinking the water out of her eyes, she saw that the river she'd though was so far away was just a stream, barely deep enough that she couldn't stand up in it, and no wider than four fox-lengths. She paddled clumsily over to the pebbly shore, ants floating off of her pelt, mercifully. Collapsing with her face pressed into the slimy stone, she managed to catch her breath, closing her eyes and silently thanking whatever was looking out for her.

She wasn't dead, no, but she _hurt. _Her front paw was aching like she'd slammed a rock on it, and she could feel a trickle of blood running between her ears to the back of her neck. Her nose was swollen, red and painful when she crossed her eyes to look at it, and her spine was itchy with ant bites.

There was a splashing sound nearby and she thought, _Oh great, now I'm going to be eaten by a predator, _before a cold nose pushed into her fur.

"Twist! Hey, Twist!" A paw prodded her side roughly.

She sucked a hissing intake of breath. "Don't touch me, you moron!" she managed to choke out. "You are officially the stupidest tom in the history of stupid toms!" Wrenching herself into a half-slouch, she glared up at him.

His russet fur was slicked dark and flat by the water, but his eyes were still that vivid green, and now they were full of worry. "Are you okay?" he panted. "I thought you were a goner."

Twist was darkly satisfied to see a large ant bite just to the side of one of his eyes, red and angry already. Good, he got bitten as well. "You _idiot!_" she hissed. "Why did you have to pull up that bush? Couldn't you have just left it alone? Now I'm bit all over, I'm tired, I'm wet, and I am incredibly furious with you. You've done yourself a great disservice."

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice wretched. "You suggested that we free that rock and I thought if I could pull that branch loose, I could get it. We were having so much fun…I just wanted you to be happy." His sodden tail drooped pathetically behind him, backed up by his limp and dripping whiskers.

Getting stiffly to her paws, Twist shot him a dirty look. "I told you to leave it alone. And did you? No. You had to go and yank up an _ants' nest. _Do you know how long ant bites take to heal? Do you know how many ant bites are on me _right now?_"

"I…I could count them, if you want," he supplied in a meek voice.

Twist couldn't even speak. She turned that instant and limped away from him, not even bothering to shake the water out of her fur. Soaked and angry and hurting, she managed to get a few pawsteps away before she had to slow down, but she did not look back at him. Her paw hurt like a fox bite but she would not allow him the pleasure of seeing her weakened. So, pushing it to the back of her mind, she stumbled until she was out of sight.

There was a tiny overhang and she collapsed underneath it, too tired to even lick her wounds. Thank everything that her mother made sure she could swim, otherwise she'd really have been a goner. Closing her eyes furiously, her pelt on fire, she tried to rest but her mind wouldn't let her. She kept seeing Declan's stupid apologetic face whenever she shut her eyes. She shouldn't feel guilty about it, should she? She didn't even know him for one, and he was stupid for two, but something was nagging at the back of her mind annoyingly. Why did she feel so torn about it?

_Honestly, he's like a kit, _the voice in the back of her head whispered. _You can't get mad at kits, because they can't control their actions._

Snorting, Twist reminded herself that Declan was an _adult. _He shouldn't be acting the way he was. Who pulls up a bush for no good reason?

But Twist was still annoyed.

Finally, after dark had fallen, she crept out of her hiding spot and went to find Declan. Stars above knew that that tom would probably catch his death. Who knew if he even knew how to dry his own fur properly.

She didn't have to go far. There was a soft sighing sound from just outside her den. Whipping her head around, she saw his dark fur blending in with the shadows a respectful distance away. He was fast asleep.

Twist was stunned. _He's been here the whole time?_

Declan wasn't sleeping peacefully. Every so often, his paws would twitch as if he was trying to run, or he'd shuffle uncomfortably. Sure enough, his pelt was still wet, though it had been nearly a quarter of a day since they'd fallen in the river.

Twist watched him sleep for a moment, warring between the urge to leave him there and go on or to wake him up, before sighing heavily. She limped over to his side and dropped next him, her pelt brushing his. She washed his pelt in long, gentle strokes, feeling the bumpy bites just beneath the soft fur.

She saw that he was awake—the moonlight gleamed off of his half-open eyes—but he said nothing and neither did she. It was silent between them, just the lapping of Twist's tongue, but it was peaceful. She was glad that he didn't speak, because she didn't know what to say to him. She was still angry with him but knew somehow that she didn't want to leave him by himself. Something was just so…vulnerable about him, about his open personality and bright eyes and flicking tail, that was interesting to her. She didn't know why she felt that way or why she felt that way about such a strange tom she barely knew, but it was true. And she wanted to make sure that he would be okay.

So when his pelt was deemed dry enough by her, she rested her head on her forepaws and closed her eyes, glad to have the warmth of another cat next to her after all.

* * *

**I have a confession to make.**

**Shadow loves...almond M&Ms. They are delicious and really her only vice. As we speak/type/read, she is munching gleefully on them. She is also confusingly speaking about herself in the third-person...yeeeeaaaah.**

**R&R~! ^.^**

**Shadow**

**(Also, to all you lurkers out there...I see what you did thar. You come here and you read and then you don't leave poor old me any reviews. I really don't bite, honest! Constructive criticism, error-pointing-out, weird grammar notifications, really anything...it's all good with me. So please leave me a review. Please? :3)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Burr! It's starting to get cold outside these days; today I even got to wear a sweater! Though to you non-Floridians, I'm talking like, seventy-five degrees. Jussayin'. XD**

**LegendaryWarrior - I always like to talk to those who review me. It's like a thank you card, but like...not. XD Mkay, I tried to put a little more time words into this chapter, so you'll have to tell me if it worked well. :3 Also, they are pretty beast, though I just ran out today. T~T -cue sadness-**

**Sunofaia - Whoa, you changed your penname! I like~! Whoohoo~! Yes, Florida is amazing, so you should def come here, since Disney is the most magical place on earth or whatever, right? ;P **

**Amazingly awesome person - Heehee~! Would it really be a Shadow story without a soul-crushingly depressing backstory? XD**

**And onto the story!**

* * *

Twist lay on her back in the shallow water, eyes closed, a purr barely rumbling in the back of her throat. The cool water of the mountain stream was incredibly soothing on her aching back—the stings of the ants had scabbed over and she had resolutely decided not to scratch at them, knowing that if she started, she wouldn't be able to stop. She didn't want to end up half-bald, especially when the weather was turning so quickly.

Blinking open her eyes, she looked up into the afternoon sky—it was dark, clouds hanging like soaked gray fur in the sky. It would break soon, and when it did, it would break hard. She'd seen weather like this a few times before, and had always managed to scoot under cover before the storm ripped the sky apart with claws of lightning.

"I think I've figured out where we are." Declan's voice came echoing over the stone as he bounded toward her. Rolling her head toward him and getting water in her ear, she watched as he trotted to a stop, tongue hanging out of his mouth from exertion. "We might actually have saved ourselves some time."

She sat up, shaking her head to get the water out of her ears, and said dryly, "You mean falling off the cliff actually was _worth it?_"

He looked away and she felt bad—though she disliked it. "I just thought you should know. We might be able to make it down tonight if we hustle."

Frowning, she shook out her fur—splashing him with drops of icy water—and padded past him, flicking him with the tip of her tail. "Well let's get going then. I'd like to be out of here already."

Realizing she was apologizing, Declan curled his tail over his back good-humoredly and bounced after her. "How's your paw?" he asked worriedly.

Twist barely glanced down at it, feeling the crusty scabs between her toes where the blood had settled. "It doesn't even hurt," she lied.

He seemed to believe her. "My pelt is on fire," he grumbled, falling onto his haunches to rip at his ear with a hind paw.

She poked him with her nose, pushing him back to his paws. "Don't. You'll make them infected if you scratch."

Declan put on a piteous face. "But it hurts!"

"Too bad," she said, unsympathetic. "If you hadn't pulled up that branch in the first place you wouldn't be hurting."

He clucked his tongue at her, looking disapprovingly at her pelt. "You've been scratching. I can see it in the white of your fur."

She just shot him a sour look. "I have not. It's probably bruising. I didn't exactly stroll down the mountain, you know."

A rumble of thunder shook the air around them, as if accenting her words. Twist tipped her head back to look at the sky—even in the few moments they'd been walking, it had grown even darker. There was nothing around, no birds in the sky or rats crawling around the crags, and Twist knew that they needed to find shelter soon. Her legs were aching from the changing pressure.

Suddenly but fondly, she remembered her mother telling her a similar story. "This old leg of mine," she had said, nodding to her front paw, "can tell when it's going to rain. Want to know how, little darling?"

Twist remembered how warm she'd felt at her mother's affectionate nickname. "How?" she had asked.

"It tingles. I can feel it as a soreness in these old bones of mine."

"You're not old!" Twist had protested.

Her mother had purred in amusement, licking her daughter between the eyes. "Maybe not. But I will be one day. And then you'll have to go on without me. Don't argue," she mewed, cutting off Twist's protests. "I'm serious. That's why tomorrow I'm going to teach you how to hunt. The mountain is cold and harsh, but it will provide for you if you know where to look."

And Twist remembered all of it, even now so many moons later. Sadness rang through her chest like a birdcall as she imagined her mother's soft tortoiseshell coat and gentle eyes, green just like grass.

She felt Declan's eyes on her but she didn't say anything about it to him. Making sure her expression was clear of any emotion, she noted, "I'm hungry."

He looked relieved. "I'm so glad you mentioned it. I feel like my belly is trying to eat itself." Narrowing his eyes teasingly, he added, "I didn't want to say anything unless you did so you wouldn't kill me and make it look like an accident."

That got a laugh out of her, the sound strange in her throat. "I wouldn't need to make it look like an accident," she hinted, only really half-joking, as she motioned to the mountain around them. "There's nobody around here."

But Declan looked more reserved. "I think there might be, actually," he said, his voice low as if he was worried about being overheard.

That made her suspicious. "What makes you say that?" she asked warily.

He shrugged. "I ran into some cats on the way up here. Rogues, I'd imagine."

"Rogues," she repeated, recognizing the word. Those cats that had stopped them from hunting in the Tribe's grounds had called the gang that. By the tone of their voices, she'd assumed it wasn't a compliment.

"Yeah, you know. Ragged vagabonds. Bloodthirsty murdering scoundrels." He slanted his eyes over to her. "Like you."

She sniffed. "I'm not ragged."

He laughed. "But you don't deny the rest."

She shrugged. "Win some, lose some."

Declan shook his head. "I don't really get you. One moment you're a grouchy, bees-in-your-pelt stick in the mud and the next you're joking around like a normal cat. It's weird, is what it is. I don't know how I'm supposed to understand you."

Twist just looked over at him, with his bright, open face. "Oh, Declan," she said, sighing dramatically as she swept past him. "That's the whole idea."

* * *

Twist crouched near the wall, hoping that her dark tortoiseshell pelt would allow her to blend with the quickly-darkening atmosphere. The storm was just about to reach a peak, she could tell, so she tried to hurry but only ended up scaring away all the prey in the area. Cursing at herself for being such a lousy hunter, she'd nearly given up the whole prospect and decided to go hungry when the mouse scurried across her path.

Now it nibbled at something on the ground—a seed, perhaps, or a leaf—with its back to her, making it a perfect target.

Twist's shoulders wriggled up and down as she fought to remain quiet, her breath coming in soft, uneven pants as she tried to be as silent as possible. This would be her last chance before the storm broke if she wanted a meal.

Then, with one last flick of her tail, she leapt to her paws and closed the gap with a few short strides, lifting a paw and slamming it down on the back of the mouse, breaking its spine clean in two. Satisfied, she ducked down onto her haunches and began to eat.

"Oh, good job!" She looked up as Declan trotted over, tail waving. His whiskers were slightly askew on one side of his face and the fur on his shoulder was ruffled with downy feathers.

"Thanks," she said tersely, confused. "What happened to you?"

Now he looked embarrassed, and he raised one paw to his face self-consciously. "I thought I'd smoothed it all down," he muttered. "I…er, lost my prey."

"Lost it?" She got to her paws, casting half a mournful glance down at the mouse. "How so?"

"Well, let's just say that pretending that you're a bird doesn't really help you catch them." When she still looked mystified he added, "It got away."

"I…see." But she didn't. What she _did _see was the way that he kept glancing behind her at the prey on the ground, his nose twitching. With a little more edge to her tone, she said, "You better go catch another one then."

Making his eyes big and sad, Declan whined, "But I thought we could _share_."

Hardening her expression, Twist growled, "No. This is my kill. Go and get your own."

"But it's already caught and I'm starving!" His voice was a pitiful mew.

"What, are you a kit? Go and get your own!" Turning back to her own prey, she let out a startled hiss, her fur fluffing up to twice its size, as a hawk flew down no more than a kittenstep from her face.

She collided with Declan's flank as she backtracked, eyes wide as she watched the great black-and-brown wings carry the bird up out of reach—and the mouse with it.

They were both silent for a moment afterwards, but Twist could feel Declan shivering where their sides touched.

Pelt suddenly flushed, she jumped away from him, her shoulder fur bristling. "Great," she complained, making her voice hard to hide the note of panic in it. "Now _I _have to go and catch another one, too."

Declan's fur was on end. "Did you see that?" he whispered, whiskers trembling. "That bird? It was _huge_!"

"A hawk," she informed him. "Some cats eat them."

"They can catch them?"

Twist remembered one of the times she'd been on a reconnaissance mission with Flick and Flora, watching the Tribe hunt. They had worked in pairs—one watching, one hunting—while they took down huge prey—hawks and sometimes even eagles. She'd watched a pair of Tribes cats even work together to scare away a young wolf pup that had wandered too far down the mountain and far too close to that cave they lived in, hidden behind a sheet of falling water.

But Stripes had always dismissed that. "Cats should take care of themselves," he had said, preening as usual to the rest of the gang. "Why should they waste time in getting food for others? Fill your own belly; everyone else should do the same."

"And cats who can't feed themselves?" someone had challenged.

Stripes had laughed. "Cats who can't even care for themselves are not tough cut out to be in the gang."

Twist gritted her teeth now, ears flipped back to press against her head. Why did everything always have to come back to that? To Stripes and the gang? For the stars' sake, she was _done _with all of that!

So, eyes filled with the vision of mouthwatering food, she said, "Let's try an experiment."

* * *

A few moments later, after several instances of hiding from gusting winds that threatened to knock them off their paws and bouts of times hiding their noses beneath their paws from bits of ice falling from the sky, Twist and Declan had managed to secure three mice and a large bird with thick brown feathers.

"Not bad," she said, satisfied. Pulling one of the mice she'd killed herself, as she'd pressed behind a rock jutting from the wet ground, she bit into it, sweet relief flooding her as the mouthful slid into her empty belly.

"Not bad at all," Declan agreed, already plucking feathers off of the bird. "We make a pretty good team, Twist."

Twist pulled a face at that. "We kind of did, I suppose. But don't get used to it; I don't like to share my prey."

"I noticed," he said, voice light, but Twist wondered if she'd somehow hurt his feelings. "But you did a good job killing these. I never would have tried to do that on my own."

"Hunt?" she asked, incredulous.

He shot her a bland look. "Hunt in pairs?"

"Oh." She returned her eyes to her meal, taking another bite.

"Where did you learn that? Your family?" His voice was curious.

Ripping a mouthful of meat with unnecessary force, she growled, "I don't have a family."

Declan's green eyes were level as he looked at her—it made her rather uncomfortable. "You said you had brothers this morning."

She averted her eyes immediately. "No, I didn't."

"Really?" His tone was disbelieving.

"Look, it's really none of your business, is it?" She rounded on him, hot with anger. "I don't even know you. I just met you two days ago, so don't try and act like you know me. You don't."

Despite her harsh words, his expression didn't change. He looked as collected as if they were having a normal conversation. "Gang brothers, I think was the term you used," he continued. "That would imply you were in a family."

"It wasn't a family." The words were out of her before she could stop them. "We weren't a family. And I'm not with them anymore. I don't have a gang. I don't have a family. And I don't need one." She stared at him challengingly, daring him to say something more. She was angry, but it felt disconnected. Declan wasn't really the source of her anger, but it wasn't entirely the gang either. It was something in between, something that she really couldn't place. But that didn't stop her from being coldly furious, so angry that she was shaking slightly.

Declan's eyes widened a little, but he didn't say anything about her outburst. "What was it like, then?" he asked softly. "The gang."

Teeth gritted, Twist looked at him, warring between wanting to tell everything or to keep it all inside. Declan's expression was calm and soothing, and he looked genuinely concerned for her. But that did not change the fact that she didn't know him; who knew who this cat was or where he came from. Why he wanted to know about her life was beyond her, because she certainly didn't want to know about him.

_You liar. _She'd been wondering about why Declan was so cheerful and weird almost the entire time she'd been with him.

So, looking away, she answered, "It was okay. I'm not going to say it was awful and horrible and I hated it because that's not true. I just wasn't cut out for it. I'm better off by myself."

Declan thought about that for a moment and then asked, "Did they teach you to rely only on yourself?" When she turned to look at him in surprise, he added, "I'm not stupid, you know. I do notice these kinds of things."

Looking between his dark eyes, she sighed inwardly. "Yeah. He said that we had to fend for ourselves. That your own life is more important than anyone else's."

"And did you agree with him?" She noticed that Declan had not asked who exactly _he _was—something she was grateful for.

"Yes," she answered honestly. "I still do."

"Mm." Declan chewed a bite of his bird for a moment silently, looking down at his paws. Twist desperately wished for him to ask something else; sharing the secrets of the gang—something she would have been punished for if she still ran with them—was liberating, like she was somehow getting rid of the poison that turned her mind into what she was.

"What about you?" she finally asked. "Do you have a family?"

Declan paused in mid-bite. "No," he mewed, finishing chewing and swallowing. "I don't."

"No parents?"

Declan seemed to notice her tone because he shot her a sardonic look. "You don't sound too surprised."

She shrugged; most cats didn't live long in the gang.

Eyes narrowing, he said nothing, simply finished eating his bird. He pushed it to the side and pulled a mouse forward. Twist instinctively reached to stop him, since she was the one to kill that mouse, then froze.

He noticed. Expression growing more wry, he asked, "Are you going to stop me?"

"No," she said, teeth gritted. She couldn't believe she'd just nearly done that. What was she, anyway? Not a gang member—not anymore.

"Here, it's fine." He nudged it forward; the mouse rolled limply, its tail lolling. "Go ahead. I'll eat this one."

Twist didn't have to be asked twice. She clawed it to her, scraping it softly against the ground, then looked down at it, her throat tight with embarrassment. She wondered whether or not she should apologize to him. Darting her eyes up and away from him, she noticed he had just started on the mouse, his bites small and clumsy, like he'd never eaten prey before.

"Are you a rogue?" she asked suddenly.

Looking surprised, he laughed. "No, not really."

"But you don't have a family," she said slowly, questioningly.

He nodded. "Right."

Puzzled, she let it drop. He'd been pretty open about everything else, so he must be hiding something. Inwardly shrugging, she returned to her meal, her curiosity burning. She'd never really spoken to a cat outside the gang—other than those strange cats with the odd names that smelled of lake water, and she'd only heard them when she was skulking around the Tribe's lands—and despite her projected toughness, she really was interested in Declan's life, a thought that both confused and irritated her.

_You first, _she reminded herself. _Everyone else is second place._

The storm continued outside, raging and shaking against the walls of the cave. Twist pressed to the back of the little hollow, her fur fluffed up against the cold winds.

"Brr!" Declan shook out his own thick fur, ruffled and matted from the spray of water off of the stone ground. "It's really close to the cold-time, isn't it?"

She just nodded, curling her tail over her flanks. She was shivering, her teeth nearly clattering together, but she said nothing. Her mother had always told her never to show weakness, so she pressed her belly to the freezing ground and tried to still her trembling legs. Ears flat against her head, she closed her eyes, concentrating on her breathing and warm thoughts—noonday sun, her mother's fur, those nights in the warm-time when she had curled up by herself rather than share the heat of her gang brothers and sisters.

So she was surprised when she heard the scratching of pads on stone close to her face.

Declan let out a huff of breath as he flopped to the ground next to her, close enough for his thick red-brown fur to brush against hers. "I'm freezing," he said, eyes glittering as he looked over at her. "You wouldn't mind sharing some warmth, would you?"

The tone of his voice told Twist that he knew she was cold. Confused, she turned her head away and grumbled, "Whatever," but she was fiercely grateful for his simple action. Already, his body heat was defrosting her entire side, and she surreptitiously began to scoot a little closer to him, until their whiskers brushed. Embarrassed, she caught herself and looked away again.

Declan was keeping up a steady stream of chatter. "I don't really like the rain, do you? I mean, I like that it makes everything so green and fresh, but I don't like that it makes me feel like a waterlogged rat. One time, I was wandering too close to a river and fell in. I was barely older than a kit then, so I didn't know how to swim. I got lucky—there was this old tomcat nearby that saved me. He pulled me out and got me all warm and toasty, fed me, kept me." His voice was warm. "He only had one good ear—he'd lost the other one in a fight and what was left was torn to ribbons. He taught me how to hunt and fish and care for myself, because he was getting on in seasons and his bones ached."

Twist was silent for a moment, imagining it. "And did you care for him then?" she asked tentatively.

He glanced down at her quickly, his whiskers bristling with surprise. "I sure did," he said, sounding happy. "We lived together for a little while, but it was good."

She was so comfortable. It was strange to be this close to another cat—especially one who was so clearly not like her—but it was nice in a way. Refreshing, almost, after being with the gang for so long. The storm was settling into a low rumble in the background, steady and soft as a purr, and it was only too easy to imagine how the rivers would be flooding. Twist could see it now—the waterfalls and dips in the paths would be overflowing with water, making for good drinking tomorrow. The prey would be plentiful, too—storms were hard to come by this late in the season, so everyone could use the spare water that was so easily reachable.

His warmth was making her sleepy, so closing her eyes, she asked, "And why aren't you with him now?"

Almost asleep now, she heard Declan's rusty purr sounding close through her thick ear fur as he pressed his nose to the top of her head gently. "Silly Twist," he murmured. "Because I'm with you now."

* * *

**Aaaaahhhhhhhhh! Have you heard the new Taylor Swift song? -continues raving-**

**Needless to say, I am very excited to hear the rest of her album. :3**

**Also, my Vlogbrothers shirt is getting shipped today. DFTBA, readers. DFTBA. **

**-does the Nerdfighter sign-**

**Shadow**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry this chapter is so short; I had to spend most of my time so far this week writing a paper on how deconstructional theory plays a role in the fairytale Cinderella, and no, it was not fun or easy and I kinda hated it a lot. D:**

**But on the plus side, my professor asked me to submit my poem to the school journal. Yaaaaay~!**

**Amazingly awesome person - Haha, I guess I should have mentioned that, yeah? We Americans are so lame with our feet instead of meters and our gallons instead of liters (though we do use liters for soda...weird, I know) and our using of z for everything that everyone else uses s for, like realize and critisize but strangely not for surprise. And also, we don't have a u in color. XD**

**LegendaryHero - I misread your review and thought you said, "...and they would hit third base by that night" and I was like, "What kind of story do you think I'm writing?" XD And yeah, this is pretty normal. Back when I was a beast I could update once a day, but now that I'm back in school, it slows down a little. But it will _definitely _pick up next month. I'm talking like, two updates every day type of pick up. God bless NaNoWriMo. XD**

**Roseheart of ThunderClan - Hey, new reviewer~! Was this quick enough for ya? XD**

**Sunofaia - Hoo~ I love names that end in "ia" for some reason. They're very fancy~ Dude, even I haven't gotten to go to Discovery Cove. Luckyyyyy. I wanna swim with the dolphins, tooooooo. DDDDD:**

**And onto the story!**

* * *

Twist yawned widely, her tongue curling, as she blinked slowly in the morning light. The storm had slowed to a steady drizzle now, just enough to soak through her pelt in a fine mist. Clouds still hung low in the sky, thick and heavy like soaked moss, filling the air with the bitter tang of another bout of rain.

Declan hadn't been there when she'd woken up, and she was curious to see where he'd gone. That was partly the reason she'd been awakened in the first place—his warmth was absent.

Her pelt flushed again as she remembered yesterday night. How could she have allowed him to be that close to her? How could she have told him so much about the gang? If Stripes ever found out, who knew what he would do to her?

_Well, he won't ever find out, _she pointed out to herself with a wry twist of her lips.

"True, true," she murmured to herself, arching her back.

"What's true?" Declan's voice came from above her. Craning her head back, she saw him clinging to the top of the cave's ledge, claws dug into the stone. "Or were you just talking to yourself to hear your own voice?"

Scowling at him, she asked, "Where have you been this whole time?"

Eyes brightening, he curled his tail over his back in delight. "Come and I'll show you."

Sighing heavily, Twist got to her paws, leaping lightly up beside him. "What?"

"Not here. Over there." He tilted his head toward the back of the ledge, where the ground dropped suddenly. "Come on, it's worth it."

She followed after him, keeping her pawsteps light and her ears pricked. She'd heard wolves howling earlier that morning, and wasn't prepared to run from a pack of them. "What is it?" she asked again, insistently. "I don't want to wander too far from the path."

Leaping ahead of her, Declan whirled towards her, his red-brown fur backlit gold from the light of the sun behind him. "But that's just it, Twist," he purred. "It _is_ the path."

Blinking, Twist brushed past him and followed his gaze down, feeling her mouth drop open in astonishment: below her, the ground slowly leveled out into rocky wasteland, but beyond that was _green. _Grass and trees and leaves on the ground, turning gold and red in piles, and a stream trickled by, a silver vein in the distance. She could see the faint glimmer of the sun still rising reflecting on the surface of that water, and she couldn't hold back her breathless awe. "It's beautiful," she whispered.

"It is," Declan agreed, nudging her shoulder. "Ready to go down to see it close up?"

She laughed, feeling again that rush of freedom, and took off, leaping down off of the ledge and onto the uneven ground, teetering as she nearly lost her balance. The burst of giddiness didn't fade as she careened down the slope, hearing Declan's excited laughing just behind her. She wanted to glance back and see what he looked like when he laughed—a thought that struck her as weird—but had to keep her eyes on the ground in front of her.

They ran for a while yet, towards that…that what? Field? Was that the word for it? Twist's mother had talked about fields before—places where grass and flowers blanketed the ground with soft leaves and fronds, but she couldn't quite remember it. That had been so long ago.

"Hey, Twist!" Declan called out, trotting up next to her, eyes glittering. "I bet I can beat you there."

"Like a race?" She let out a crack of fierce laughter. "Let's see you try!" Her paws quickened beneath her, pushing her between the sharp-edged rocks and over the mounds of gravel. She felt a sting of pain as a shard of rock cut her pad but she ignored it, concentrating fully on beating Declan.

He was running beside her, neck and neck, his long-furred tail streaming in the torrent of air behind him, expression fiercely concentrated, not like that usual airy look he wore. She blinked, returning her eyes to the path ahead, but it was too late.

Yelping, she caught her paw on a branch she hadn't seen jutting from the ground. At her speed, she couldn't possibly save herself—her hind paws came flying over her back, and she tumbled tail-over-nose down the slope, feeling the sharp rocks cut into where the ant-bites had just begun to stop itching. She hit the ground with a thud, knocking the air from her lungs, and she laid there breathless for a moment.

"Twist! Twist!" Declan's voice was concerned as he approached, scattering pebbles with his large paws. Prodding her shoulder with his nose, he demanded, "Are you okay?"

Twist opened her eyes, seeing his own worried green gaze close to her own. Blinking rapidly, she tried to think of a way to explain this situation but came up with nothing. Noticing that her breath was back, she began to make a weird, wheezing noise.

Declan's eyes clouded with worry and he began to pace around her in tight, agitated circles. "Twist, get up. Get up, get up, get up." He poked at her with a paw.

But she wasn't choking or dying—she was _laughing. _Twist was laughing so hard that her chest was aching. "Y-y-you should see your _face!_" she managed to say between bouts of rather off-kilter laughter.

Declan frowned down at her. "You nearly died!" he accused.

Still chuckling, but weakly now as her body was sore, Twist rolled onto her belly. "I did not. I was perfectly in control."

"You scraped your way halfway down the mountain!"

Twist looked back at the mountain in question, seeing the trail where her body had lifted dust, then stared in surprise—she knew that the mountain was huge, but she'd never been this far down it. It rose impossibly high, dizzyingly high, and was capped with a thick layer of snow just at the top, visible between the clouds that gathered around it like thick whiskers.

And that surge of fierce excitement clutched her again. She was _free_.

She got to her paws, shaking out her fur, feeling where the stickiness of blood matted her pelt, and turned to Declan. "I'm fine," she assured him. "What about you?"

He stared at her for a moment longer, his body tense with some emotion, then loosened, his expression becoming instantly more open, like watching a flower bloom sped-up. "A cut paw," he said lightly. "But I still won."

"No fair," she immediately argued. "It doesn't count. We're not even down the mountain yet!"

He half-glanced over his shoulder. "Close enough."

"No way!" She pushed past him, knocking him off balance, and started to run again. "I can't lose to some tom! I have to win!"

Declan easily kept pace with her stilted running, eyes amused. "You can't win when you can't even walk," he pointed out.

Twist gritted her teeth, her momentary openness gone now, eaten up by her urge to beat Declan. She glowered over at him, gasping suddenly and widening her eyes. "Look out!" she yowled.

He whipped his head around in alarm, and she swiped a paw beneath his legs, knocking him flat on his side.

Chuckling, she evened out her stride to long lopes, calling, "You really shouldn't be so naïve," over her shoulder. "That's the oldest trick in the world!"

Declan twisted back onto his paws and shot after her, but she was already too far away from him, and she slowed to a trot as they approached the woods, tail curled over her back.

"You little liar!" he grumbled. "I was totally gonna win, too!"

Shooting him a triumphant look, she mewed, "You should be more aware of your surroundings, tom. I haven't fallen for the 'Gasp, look behind you!' since I was a kit!"

"In my defense, I've never used that particular technique," he sniffed, lifting his chin.

"I've found over my many seasons of experience that there are _always _enough idiots to fall for it," she said, letting a teasing edge into her voice.

"That is so cheating," he muttered.

She shrugged. "Whatever it takes to win, right?"

"But using cheap tricks isn't the way to do it!"

"Look, if you want to win, you're going to have to cheat. That's one of the most basic rules of fighting."

"Sounds like you don't like to fight then," he suggested. "Since you'd rather cheat."

Twist shot him a sour look but ignored him. The light of the weak sun was warm on her back now from where bands of light made it through the ragged clouds. She turned to face what lay ahead—the trees were much closer, much more real-looking now that she was on their level.

It took them much longer to reach the edge of the wasteland than Twist would have imagined, but finally the ground underpaw turned soft and earthy and the unfamiliar scents of trees and roots and soil filled her nostrils, sharp and strong.

Declan led the way into the woods, with Twist hesitating and lingering around behind him. She was suddenly unsure of whether she wanted to be here, under where the thickly-leaved trees stretched out their limbs like an eagle's extended talons. Something rustled near her, a quick sound, and she turned from it immediately, closing her eyes.

_I am not afraid. I am not afraid. _She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut, feeling her fur begin to spike with fear. _I am not afraid. I am not afraid. _

Declan's voice seemed to reach her as if she was underwater. "Twist? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

She cracked open her eyes, seeing his concerned face close to hers. Opening her eyes completely, she dropped her gaze to the ground, trying to summon the energy to look uninterested but her fluffed fur gave away her fear. "I'm fine," she lied breathlessly, panting hard as if she'd been running.

Declan's eyes were wide as he said, "You're trembling."

Twist knew it, but hearing it said aloud made her feel humiliated. Lifting her chin, she swallowed hard and growled, "I'm not."

He didn't look deterred. "Twist, you don't have to lie to me," he said softly.

For some reason, that made her terror spike. Backing away from him and slowly shaking her head from side to side, she stumbled into a tree trunk, which scraped against her flanks like claws. Barely holding back a cry of shock, she leapt to the side, the fur along her spine bristling, until she stood, back arched, in the middle of the path. The sun's setting rays spilled over the ground in front of her, illuminating the unfamiliar ground—soft and dark, unlike stone entirely—and the leaves above her whispered as the wind brushed through them, gentle but foreign. Terrifying.

Declan didn't look wary or angry or skeptical of her. Instead, he sat down calmly in the path, whisking his tail across his paws and studied her with a level gaze. "Don't worry, I won't come near you," he said, his voice conversational. "I'll sit right here until you're ready to go."

Twist's chest heaved as she fought for breath. It was so stupid, she thought, how this came so suddenly over her. This fear. This pure, unadulterated fear that coursed through her veins like liquid ice and made her see enemies in every shadow, forcing her to flee, to hide, to run away. Even now as she looked at Declan, she wondered if he was judging her with those dark green eyes and his flicking tail. Behind him, leaves scattered in the breath of wind, pushing them into the bushes and oh, by the stars, she knew something was in there watching her right now run run get away get away—

She closed her eyes again, digging her claws into the ground and letting out a low keen. _I am not afraid. I am not afraid. I am not afraid._

She didn't know how long she stood there before she could unlock her limbs enough to relax her tense stance. Warily, she looked over at Declan, who hadn't moved from his position.

"Hey," he said lightly. "Are you okay now?"

"Yes." The lie was easy to tell in her voice.

Tilting his head to one side, eyes slanted at her, Declan asked, "You're not going to explain that, are you?"

Twist swallowed again, wanting to be anywhere but here. She hadn't felt this weak in so long… "I'd rather not," she rasped.

Declan watched her calmly for a moment more before getting to his paws, shaking out his thick fur, and walking over to her, flicking his tail at her shoulder. "Then let's go," he mewed gently.

She just stared at him. "That's it?" she asked, incredulous.

He shrugged. "That's it."

"You're not wondering what just happened to me? You're not going to leave me here or run away from me? You don't think I'm…I'm crazy or—" Her voice broke off abruptly as Declan brushed his nose against her cheek quickly, comfortingly.

"You said you didn't want to talk about it, so I won't ask." His comment was simple, but Twist felt a surge of relief; no one had ever just…accepted her like that. Not in all her seasons of being in the gang. "If you need to talk, I hope you know that I'll listen."

She just stood there for a moment, dumbstruck, then looked down at her paws, shame burning through her pelt, hot as the ant bites. _He must think I'm a moron, _she thought. _I bet I look totally crazy._

But when Declan began to pad forward again, through the forest, she followed him, sticking closer to him this time, so close that their pelts nearly brushed. He seemed to have not noticed, because he kept up a steady stream of happy chatter the whole time, commenting on how nice the weather had been and how his belly was still full from the good meal the night before, making no mention of the rapidly-darkening forest or Twist's quick breathing beside him.

It wasn't the dark that she was afraid of, Twist thought numbly. No, it wasn't that…but it _was _the thought of it. Of darkness. She knew it was stupid and probably a little kittish, but she could always imagine the malice in every shadow, every silhouette. She remembered the first time she'd seen Declan—the outline of his form had been enough to make her heart race. Even thinking about it now, the paranoia made her heart pound in her chest, loud enough for her to hear it.

And then her hate spiraled, darkening like a funnel cloud in her mind, as she thought of the reason she feared the shadows.

She didn't realize she was clenching her teeth until they ground together audibly. Relaxing her jaw, she glanced over to see if Declan had noticed, but if he had, he made no motion to show he did. He was looking ahead of them, eyes suddenly wary, and his claws were unsheathed into the soft ground.

"Something wrong?" she asked, voice raspy from her dry throat.

He glanced over quickly, his nervousness vanishing instantly. "No," he assured her. "But we're here."

"Here?" she echoed, peering out around his shoulder. Her eyes widened and her breath caught at what she saw.

Through the clustered line of undergrowth, she could see _light. _But they'd been walking so long now that it had to be the middle of the night or close to moonhigh—what was going on?

"No-pelts," Declan informed her.

"No-what?" She peered closer, seeing shapes now in the outline of the harsh yellow light, framed into a perfect square against what looked like a flat wall. It was capped with a strange layered roof that reminded her of flat river stones piled on top of each other. A piece of something—a pelt, perhaps—hung in the square of light, and it twitched as something behind it moved.

"No-pelts. They live in those things—those dens are called houses." He nodded toward the light. "That's a window. They let sunshine in during the day and let their no-pelt light out at night. See? Did you see it move just then? That means that there's one in there."

"A no-pelt?" Despite her fear for the unknown, Twist felt a strange draw to the light, like a moth to a crack in a cave. "What do they look like? Are they cats?"

He laughed, short and soft. "No, they're not cats at all. They don't have any fur—I guess you could tell that from the name—and they walk on two legs. Sometimes, if you're pretty and friendly, they'll give you food. Which, you know, I am both." He purred, looking over at her with bright eyes. "So are you hungry?"

Twist just stared at him for a moment more, then shook her head and looked away, her pelt prickling. "No, I have to get going."

"Oh." His voice was unmistakably disappointed. "You don't want to try and get some food before we move on?"

Now uncomfortable, she looked down at the ground and muttered, "You can if you want. But I've got to keep moving."

Declan's eyes flashed as he connected what she was saying. "You mean move on…by yourself." It wasn't a question.

_There's nothing to be ashamed of, _she cursed at herself. _You were planning on this anyway. _But the look on Declan's face made her feel bad, like she'd done something wrong. She forced herself to nod. "Right."

Declan's presence had been…comfrorting, she had to admit, but she was on her own. She would survive without the gang, without Stripes—by herself. She didn't need help, she didn't need company. She could make her own way with her own strength.

His tail flipping unhappily behind him, he lowered his head and said, "I thought we could…you know…travel together. It would be fun."

She shook her head. "I don't do well with others. I'm grateful that you helped me down from the mountain, but we're even now. I don't owe you anything and you don't owe me anything either. We're good now." She bent her head towards him respectfully, but also distantly, and turned around to walk back toward the woods, away from the houses. "Goodbye, Declan. Thanks again."

She barely heard his voice when he whispered, "But I don't want this to end."

She stopped in place, a pang coursing through her chest. Turning her head so he could hear her but couldn't see her face, she said, just as softly, "I know, Declan. But I do."

And then Twist kept walking.

* * *

**Aah, Twist. You're gonna make people hate you. **

**(Actually, I guess that would be me. :P)**

**I've gotta head out to my piano lesson and beast it up, so I'll be catchin' you guys later! **

**~Shadow**


	5. Chapter 5

**So today at my school (Of course on the day that I don't have class), they were having a Rent-a-Puppy event. You know what those are? You pay five dollars and you get to play with an adorable puppy for fifteen minutes. Now, to most people, that wouldn't be a big deal. Like, "A puppy? Who cares?" But no. College students are a particular kind of weird, let me tell you. We are puppy-starved individuals, we are. So if you offer us the chance to play with a puppy for fifteen whole minutes, we will take you up on it. Every. Single. Time.**

**So, naturally, I will be renting a puppy tomorrow. XD**

**Kaith1 - Hee, I know, I'm awful. But it gets better~ :P**

**LegendaryHero - I have to say, I giggled with glee at the "fantasy gentleman" part. Yeah, Twist is pretty pitiable at this part, but she's had kinda a messed-up backstory-thing that I'll get into here soon. ^.^**

**Amazingly awesome person - I promised angst, didn't I? AND I DELIVER! XD I went to England this summer on vacation and they were all like, "Do you want some mash with your fish, or chips instead?" And then also, someone called money "quid" and I actually had to look it up to know what they were talking about. Like, we had pounds or whatever, but I was like, "Is a quid a type of pound? Is it like, a penny or a dime?" I was so confused. XD And everyone wanted to hear my accent, 'cause I guess an American accent is pretty legit when you're not in America. XD**

**Dradoow Yeslek - Nope, that was the end of the fic. Totally done. They never get back together. Actually, they both die. Let's go with that. Dead, yes. Deader than disco. XDDD Just kidding, for realz, this fic is _far _from done. **

**Sunofaia - Yeah, I've been taking lessons for far too long, though, 'cause I went through that, "I DON'T WANNA PRACTICE, DANGIT" phase for a few years. But I've been playing for ten or eleven years now. I think ten. '- ' Hooo, good luck with that. String instruments always look so difficult to me: like, which strings am I supposed to be pressing, plucking, clicking, blibbity-blaw-whatevering? XD**

**And onto the story~**

* * *

The no-pelt den's front space was full of dust and debris as Twist slunk across the stone pathway to it, eyes wary in the darkness. She'd picked one that she was certain was unoccupied, sneaking around the outside and watching from the nearby woods before even daring to approach it.

The stone pathway was cool underpaw as Twist trotted to one of the windows and reared up on her hind paws, peering inside. Squinting past the layer of grime that clung to the clear wall of the window, she saw that it was empty inside, with large dusty white pelts spread out across large immobile shapes.

_This is stupid. _It wasn't the first time she'd thought it in her time scouting out the house. But the woods were full of who knew what—monsters and wolves no doubt—and she didn't want to be surprised.

Also, she admitted to herself in a rather smaller voice, there were fewer shadows in the dark house, cut off from the night sky.

Pressing her paws against the wall of the window, she shoved hard. The surface refused to give, even once she raked her claws down it, eliciting sharp screeches that made her fur stand on end. Giving up with a huff of breath, she moved onto the next window and then the next, finally finding one that was broken. The wall-stuff was on the ground, fragmented into sharp shards that she pushed out of the way, before heaving herself up onto the small window ledge and ducking inside.

It was dark inside, almost entirely, as she padded across the house. It was large, larger than she had imagined from looking in, and full of a thick layer of dust that tickled the back of her throat. It wasn't even one large space—she could see what looked like tunnels branching off from this part of the den into other, smaller dens. She poked her nose into a few of them—one with a large rectangular thing that was soft to touch but hard on the sides and the other with a floor that was cold and slippery as ice—before settling into a smaller den with only one window.

Another huge soft thing was in the center of this room, and it gave under her paws as she leapt on top of it. She curled her paws beneath her chest and sat there, staring off at the wall of the den—curiously patterned to look like vines, even though she knew they weren't real—and wondered at the strangeness of no-pelts. She'd seen a few of them as she was wandering the paths of this den-place—impossibly tall with oddly-colored pelts and tufts of fur on only their heads and sometimes their faces—and knew that they were bad news.

Now, with moonlight coming in through the window and casting thin shadows—not large nor mobile enough to startle her—Twist wondered what Declan was doing. It had been three days since she'd seen him and she'd wandered from den to den since then, hiding in the woods for a fearful night and sleeping beneath some kind of ledge made of wood the next. Tonight, she'd been lucky to stumble upon this wayward no-pelt den, and she'd decided that it would be a good home base for the rest of…

And that's when she ran out of ideas.

What could there be here for her to stay for? She knew the lay of the land now, at least, but what else? What was the point of being here? What could she do to fill the rest of her life now that she didn't have the gang?

Grumbling in the back of her throat, she rested her head on her paws and closed her eyes, begging for sleep to take her. She didn't want to think about that—that or Declan, who'd dominated her thoughts for the past few days. All she wanted was to sleep, to sleep and forget everything that she'd just gotten rid of.

_That's what Stripes would say, isn't it? _That snide voice in the back of her head had finally made its return.

She curled her lip. _Stripes can go take a long trot off a short ledge for all I care. _

Glowering at the wall of the den—her den, she corrected herself—she decisively yawned widely, trying to trick her body into sleeping. She rolled onto her back, letting her white belly fur fluff up, and opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling with an unfocused gaze.

Was she really so wrong to just leave Declan like that? Should she have stayed with him? Being with him was…comfortable. Easy. Like breathing. But, she told herself, closing her eyes, she was meant only to rely upon herself. No one else. No one but yourself. Your own life comes first.

_But I don't want to be like that. _The thought drifted through Twist's mind before she could stop it, and the very implication of it nearly took her breath away.

She rolled furiously over onto her side, shivering. _Stop thinking such stupid things, _she snarled at herself. _You're alone. You'll always be alone. Deal with it. That's how you were born, that's how you were raised, and that's how you'll die. Just deal with it and move on._

Something skittered nearby, raising the hair on the back of Twist's neck. She leapt to her paws, tail trembling, as she stared in the direction the noise had some from. It was dark, but her eyes were sharp enough to pick out the telltale scuttling of a mouse, its wormlike tail darting out of view as quickly as it'd come.

She relaxed back onto the soft thing—a no-pelt nest, she'd reckoned—and nosed her way underneath the dingy gray pelt that was flung across it, scooting underneath until only her nose poked out, dry in the cool air.

She closed her eyes and the next thing she knew, there was warm sunlight scorching across her pelt. Blinking groggily, Twist lifted her head to see the window casting bands of light down across her now exposed flanks. She curled her tail across her side, sitting up slowly, head thick and fuzzy with sleepiness.

Judging from the intensity of the light outside, she guessed it was about midday. Yawning, she got to her paws, pressing her chest down onto the no-pelt nest in a long, luxurious stretch, before straightening and leaping down to the floor. She hit the ground with a soft thump of paws, licking her dry lips.

The house was much larger now that she could see it in broad daylight—the white-covered thing she tried to rest on yesterday was in the middle of this part of the den, along with some hazardously-piled things that looked like thick wads of leaves; they rustled under her gentle prodding. There was a large box in the middle of the front wall with a shiny surface.

That piqued her interest. Trotting over to it, she saw she could see her own reflection in the box, which was made of what looked like the same kind of window-stuff she'd pushed out of the way the other night. Feeling a little kittish, she tilted her head and looked at herself. She'd inherited her mother's tortoiseshell fur, or so she'd been told, but her pelt lacked the luxuriously soft fur her mother'd had. Twist's pelt was more dark brown than anything, speckled with a few spots of black along her spine and down her legs, with only a few streaks of white around her muzzle and between her eyes. She liked the stripes—they reminded her of lightning bolts.

It was interesting to see herself completely—not just her white paws or chest. But looking at herself reminded her of her mother. Sadness flickered through her quickly before she could stop it, and she turned away from her reflection, shoulder fur bristling.

Exploring the house got boring after a while, so she leapt back out the window and into the grass—she was still thrilled by the presence of the grass, even as she walked across it—and headed towards the center of the no-pelt-place.

In the past three days, she'd tried to avoid it at all costs. But the truth of it was that she just was not a good solo hunter, so the best chance of filling her empty belly was to either find and steal a kill from another cat or eat no-pelt rubbish.

She clambered onto one of their border-wooden-things and stood there a moment, surveying the area. The no-pelts were so contradictory, she thought as she watched a pair of them cross the path past her—the no-pelt kit pointed up at her with a bubble of what she assumed was laughter, but its mother pushed it on. No-pelts lined their houses up in neat lines, nice little square dens with nice little square grassy areas around them, and yet they threw away perfectly edible food. It was a mystery, Twist mused, poking through one house's rubbish and finding nothing.

She'd gone to the fifth house and was about to give up when a mouse scuttled across her path. She suddenly recalled that she'd seen a mouse in the house she'd slept in, and wondered briefly why she didn't just hunt there, before falling into a crouch and moving forward stealthily.

There was a blur of white fur and a whack of claws.

Twist hissed in surprise, recoiling backwards.

The cat—a tom, by the smell—turned toward her, mouse dangling limply out of his jaws. His eyes were a bright, vivid dark blue. "Who're you?"

Thinking quickly, Twist fell forward weakly, favoring one of her front paws. "Please," she rasped, letting the dryness of her throat leak into her voice. "I haven't eaten for _days_…"

It wasn't true—she'd eaten the night before—but if she played this right, she'd have a mouse she didn't even have to catch herself.

The tom's eyes widened, and he dropped the mouse. "For days?" he asked, and his voice was absurd—high-pitched and whiney.

"That's right." She lifted pleading eyes to his face. "Please…I'm so hungry…"

He watched her for a moment more, then chuckled. "You're good, I'll give you that. But you don't have the exact positioning correct. If you're going to fake an illness, don't go for the paws—that's so overdone."

Twist glowered at him, feeling embarrassed. "Was it that unbelievable?"

He shrugged. "Probably not to most cats. But I am not most cats." His eyes searched hers for a moment. "It takes a sham to know one."

"That's pretty mean to say of yourself, isn't it?" she asked lightly.

"It's the truth, though." But he sounded amused, not insulted. "Come with me, she-cat. We can split this." He picked it up and walked away toward a nearby house.

Twist hesitated, then darted after him. She was hungry, after all, and he'd offered.

The white tom stopped just below a thick bush. "Hazel," he mewed, nodding upwards. "It's a hazel bush. I take it you've never seen one before—you've got that look to you." He pushed the mouse over to her with one paw. "Take it. I can always catch another."

Twist bit deep into it, savoring the warmth of the meat in her empty belly. Swallowing, she asked, "What did you mean when you said you were a sham?"

"Introductions first, I think." His eyes were bright. "My name's Iago. And yours?"

"Flora," she answered, not missing a beat. There really was no reason not to tell him her real name, but she wanted to test him.

Iago's eyes narrowed slightly. "Right," he scoffed. "Well, _Flora, _what are you doing in the middle of this town?"

_Town? _"You mean here?" She waved her tail to gesture vaguely behind her. "I'm traveling."

"You're not one of those Clan cats, are you?"

She frowned. "Clan cats?"

Iago looked at her steadily for a moment longer before breaking eye contact. "Obviously not," he chuckled. "They come through here every so often, usually looking for a way up the mountain. Who would want to go up there, right?"

"Right," she agreed easily, mind working on how to ask this cat for information. He seemed to be pretty straightforward, but there was something in those dark blue eyes—near violet—that she didn't trust. And being a self-professed scammer, she didn't see why she should trust him.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"I was wondering if you had any family," she mewed casually. "It doesn't seem like it."

Iago shrugged. "I have family, I suppose you could call it that. I had a mate once, but when she told me she was expecting my kits, I told her that I wasn't interested in parenthood. I have a nice life here—who would want noisy kits messing that up?" He sprawled back, thick tail curling arrogantly, his strange eyes narrowed.

Twist assumed he thought she should be impressed, so she said, "So true." Finishing up with her meal, she got to her paws. "Thank you for the company, Iago."

"No problem at all, Flora dear." The affectionate add-on made Twist's pelt crawl. "Please feel free to visit me again if it strikes your fancy.

_Creep. _"I will," she mewed, trying to be warm. "See you later, then."

She was nearly out of range before he mewed, "You know, I think I saw another new cat a few days ago. A skinny ginger cat with a darker stripe down his back. Looks like he didn't settle in well with the cats around here."

Twist froze, shoulders tight. Turning around, she asked calmly, "Oh, is that so?"

"It is." His eyes were watching her face critically. "He had an odd name, too."

"You wouldn't be one to talk, Iago," she pointed out, laying the merest emphasis on his name.

He shrugged. "Housefolk will be housefolk. No, it was an odd housefolk name. What was it…?" He trailed off, tail flicking like he was about to pounce on a juicy bit of prey. "Devin? Denton?" He paused for a moment, his face creased in thought, before brightening. "Ah, yes. _Declan_."

Twist's heart went cold. "Is the gang around here particularly fierce?" she asked lightly, but her throat was dry again, and she felt like she might be sick.

"Yes, I guess you could say that." He sighed dramatically. "I don't get involved in their affairs." He clawed at the air halfheartedly. "These paws were not made for fighting. I just like to stir up the hornets' nest."

Twist lingered in the entrance to Iago's lawn. "Do you know where I might can find them? I wouldn't mind a little fighting."

"Yes, to rescue your friend as well." He yawned widely, ignoring her coldly furious expression. "Their gang, as you so quaintly put it, likes to hang around at the edge of town by the dump. That's where the housefolk keep all their rubbish. You'll be able to sniff them out easily." His eyes narrowed lazily. "Just watch out for the one with the ripped ears named Lucky. He's not one to cross."

Twist darted out of the yard that instant and headed toward the dump, hearing Iago's light conversational laughter behind her. The creepy tom had weirded her out, but without him…

What would have happened to Declan?

The dump's scent reached her nose before she saw it. Gagging, she twisted her head to the side, trying to drive the stench from her nostrils. It smelled of rotting meat and leaf-litter—strong enough to turn her newly-filled stomach.

"Hey!"

In her haste, Twist hadn't seen the guard on watch—a tomcat with dark tabby stripes stark against his pale pelt.

_Mousedung! _she cursed. How could she not have noticed?

The cat was frowning at her, looking more puzzled than aggressive. "Who are you?" he demanded. "I don't know you."

"I'm—" But Twist didn't even get a chance to even attempt to make up who she was: a group of cats had come into view from around the edge of the fence, two scarred toms pressing a smaller cat forward.

_Declan. _Her heart constricted painfully as she saw how battered he looked, his beautiful pelt torn with bloody scratches.

The guard's ears swiveled toward them, his tense posture relaxing immediately. "Hey, guys," he greeted, his tone cheerful.

The two other toms shot him a freezing look. "Who's that?" one of them snapped, nodding at Twist. "You'd let intruders so close to our base, Flint?"

Flint looked immediately apologetic. "I'm sorry, Gravel, but I just got here. I didn't even see her until she got close." He turned to look down at her, confused. "You said you were a member of the Sliders, didn't you?"

"Yes," she agreed immediately.

Gravel's companion scoffed. "She doesn't look like Slider material," he snorted.

Gravel looked at him blandly. "Neither do you, Kent. Who's to say Lucky didn't pick her up?" He turned to Twist expectantly. "He did, didn't he?"

_Lucky was the one Iago was talking about, _she remembered. "No, not Lucky."

"Then it must have been that old batty she-cat," Kent concluded scornfully. "Wisp will let anyone into the Sliders these days."

"Eh." Gravel shrugged. "Whatever. Now let's get this one going." He shoved Declan, who had been laying prone on the ground like a dead cat, and growled, "Get up, you. The Sliders don't take lightly to prey-thieves."

Declan's eyes opened blearily, and Twist could see the pain in his green gaze. "I didn't steal it, honest!" he said, his voice pitiful. "Ask him, he saw me." He looked up towards Flint, then froze, eyes on Twist. He opened his mouth to greet her but she shook her head once, hard.

_Don't give us away, _she pleaded silently with him. _I can get us away from here. All it'll take is a few lies and we'll both be safe._

But Kent had noticed. "Do you know this cat?" he asked her gruffly.

Flint turned toward her expectantly, already trusting her solely on the knowledge—or the pretense of knowledge—that she belonged to his gang.

Twist blinked, looking down at Declan, quickly making her decision. "No. I've never seen him before in my life." Then, not even hesitating, she added, "But Lucky'll need to see him."

"Right." Gravel nodded, and then Twist knew they were set. "Alright, Kent, get him up and let's go." When they all made to follow, Gravel whipped around and snarled at Flint, who recoiled immediately. "Not you, moron! Guard the perimeter!"

Flint, ears back and tail flat, nodded weakly, turning around to sit sentinel on the ground, his shoulders mournfully drooped.

Twist didn't even look back at him, though—she tried to copy the body-language of the two guards: ears up, tail low to the ground, shoulders relaxed. It was like those games she'd played when she was a kit where she'd pretended that she was an older member of the gang or when she and Stripes had pretended to be young wolves to scare the fur off of Flick.

Her eyes widened minutely as she walked inside the Sliders' hideout—they had somehow managed to convert the piles of trash and no-pelt junk into a sizeable den. Large tunnels made out of metal arched in front of them, leading up and over a heaping pile of some kind of black smelly things—she'd seen them before: they were paws of the no-pelts' machines. As they walked over them, Twist looked down and saw cats resting in the paws, curled into the curved edges or leaping from one to the next.

The metal led downwards into a shadowy edge of the dump. Sharply-smelling boxes filled the space here, creating another series tunnels, breaking off into small dens in which she-cats nursed their kits. Twist saw a heavy gray-furred tom bring a mouse to a white she-cat with four kits squirming in her soft belly fur. The she-cat purred, licking the scarred tom over his missing eye.

Curious, Twist wanted to go and look in more of the box-dens, but the party had moved forward. Now the walls were closer together, and they had to move single-file.

Twist managed to squeeze in between Gravel and Declan. Pressing her muzzle close to Declan's ear, she hissed, "Pretend like you don't know me."

"Oh, really?" he whispered back, scathingly. "Obviously."

"Hey, I'm trying to get you out of here. What did you do in the first place, anyway? Stole prey?"

"No!" he hissed, furious. "I did not! I caught it myself out in the forest."

"Hey," Gravel snapped. "Shut up!"

Lowering her voice until it was nothing more than an exhale of breath, she said, "I'll get you out of here. Just keep quiet and let me do the talking."

Declan's anger dissolved in that second, and she realized how truly frightened he was. "You promise?" he whispered.

She nodded, throat tight. "I swear it."

Gravel growled again, and Declan quieted himself. "These prisoners these days," he grumbled. "They think they can just waltz into our territory and take what's ours."

"It's disgusting," Twist agreed.

"Say, friend, you didn't tell me your name." Gravel's voice was friendly now, open.

Decided this was the time to let a little truth into the situation, she answered, "It's Twist."

"You from around here?"

"Born and raised in the forest," she answered. "My mother recently passed on—bless her poor spirit—so I'm all alone. Wisp found me and brought me in." She was laying a lot on this Wisp cat—hopefully, Wisp would be the kind of cat Twist was describing.

Her heart start to beat again when Gravel snorted. "Sounds just like her, stupid old cat." But there was genuine affection in his voice.

"You sound close," she noted.

"Wisp's every Slider's mother practically," Kent mewed from the front. "She brought most of us here when we were barely older than kits. Like you. Lucky keeps her around because she keeps our numbers up, but the truth is that he loves her just as much as everyone else."

"Has she been here long?"

"She and Lucky formed the Sliders a few seasons back," Gravel informed her. "They came here together from another no-pelt-place and slapped this place together. The no-pelts don't use this dump anymore, so it was ripe for the picking." He looked up at the ceiling in appreciation. "Lucky's a _genius_. That tom's got more brains than three cats put together."

"I'm looking forward to meeting him, then." Twist kept her voice light.

Gravel laughed. "I'm sure he'll be interested in meeting _you_._"_

But before she could ask why, Kent stopped, pushing Declan out in front of him. Peeking around Declan's hunched shoulders, she saw that they were somehow underground now, with thick rock walls supporting the ceiling, in the center of which was a hole a fox-length wide. Sunlight streamed in through the hole, and in the center of the pool of light sat a cat.

Twist could tell just by looking at him that this had to be Lucky. His eyes were a dark amber, nearly black in the half-light, and he had a strange pelt—a creamy tan with darker tabby stripes. His paws were the same brown as the stripes, as was the streak that ran from his nose to his tipped tail. A lighter underbelly and chest gave him the appearance of a cat half in shadow even when he got to his paws, ears pricked with interest.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice pleasant and light. "Gravel, explain, please."

"We found him on the border," Gravel mewed gravely. "He'd just caught a mouse. It was clearly within our scent-marks."

Lucky's dark eyes turned to Declan. "What is your name, stranger?"

"Declan."

"Declan." It sounded like Lucky was trying out the sound of the name. "Is it true?"

"I didn't smell any scent-marks," Declan said, and every word rang with truthfulness.

Lucky nodded, seemingly to himself. "Kent, did you see this as well?"

"I did," Kent mewed.

"And what do you think?" Lucky pressed, head tilted to one side. "Do you think Declan is guilty?"

"I do," Kent said.

"And you, Gravel? Is Declan guilty?"

"I saw him kill it with my own eyes," Gravel mewed.

Lucky tipped his head the other way. "It was a single mouse?"

"Yes, Lucky."

"A large mouse?" he pressed.

"Yes," Gravel said slowly, now hesitant.

Lucky nodded again, getting to his paws and swiftly moving to stand in front of Declan—he was a little taller, but no more muscular. "Well, then," he mewed, staring down at Declan with those odd dark eyes. "Kill him."

* * *

**Ba-daaaah! And now you get to wait. Ain't I great? :D**

**Srsly, though, it might be a few days until the next update. I've gotta read King Lear, AKA the worst of Shakespeare's plays. And coming right from reading Twelfth Night, too...T~T**

**Also, I have my Russian exam coming up soon, and I still cannot distinguish between you plural, you feminine, you masculine, and you neuter. It's just a one letter difference, but they almost sound identical. -dies-**

**Anyway, enough whining. :P**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	6. Chapter 6

**Long updates suck, right? My baaad. College, piano, Russian. You know, the usual. XD**

**LegendaryHero - Haha, I'm sorry. Unfortunately, RL gets in the way of my updating sometimes, y'know? I do what I can, but I always have to put homework and practice and like, eating first. XD Rent-a-Puppy was so win, too. Me and two of my friends went and got this adorable little pit bull puppy named Lady Anne, and she was so cuteeeeeee~ Totally worth every cent, for realz. Haha, yeah, that's definitely the worst part of being an upperclassman, y'know? All the little freshies all full of questions and energy and high-octane annoyingness. It gets better in college, though, when you'll become the freshman again in classes of like, four hundred students. *-***

**Amazingly awesome person - I wish I had an English accent. I could be all "Pip-pip cheerio!" and "Do you want some tea with your crumpets, love?" It would be smashing. XD I imagine the house to be kinda out on the outskirts of the town by the woods, or whatever. There are a lot of abandoned creepy old houses by where I live, so that's where I got the idea from. XD**

**Onto the story!**

* * *

Twist froze.

Gravel simply looked confused. "Lucky…?"

But Lucky was chuckling now. "Just kidding, of course," he said in a soft voice. He nodded at Kent. "You can release him. I want to speak to him."

Kent looked uncertain.

"It is fine," Lucky assured him. "You and Gravel can go. I want to talk to our newcomers alone. I'm sure they will not murder me." His dark eyes never wavered from Twist's as he spoke.

Feeling a curious rush of uneasiness, Twist dropped her gaze, feeling her pelt crawl as if with ants again.

Gravel and Kent exchanged one last look before leaving without a word.

Lucky's thin tail flipped behind him idly as he looked between Twist and Declan. "Who are you?" he asked, directly facing Twist yet again. "I have never seen you in my lands before."

"I'm Twist. I'm new here." She left out the part about how she wasn't really a member, but judging from his shrewd expression, Lucky already knew that.

Lucky frowned. "I guess Wisp got to you, as well? She seems to have that affect on cats." Heaving a sigh, he turned to Declan. "Well, friend, I think we have a problem here. You see, no matter what the size, you have stolen prey from me—prey that could go into the bellies of my hungry queens and kits. Tell me, what do you think your punishment should be?"

"I only took one mouse. That's hardly call for punishment." Declan's voice was testy—very unlike what Twist had heard before.

Lucky's dark eyes hardened. "One mouse could mean life or death for a Slider. Did you think of that?"

Declan refused to back down. "I don't need to be punished. I'll just go."

Lucky shook his head. "It is not that simple. You cannot steal from me and then leave. It is not done here. You must work it off."

"How so?"

Lucky sat down, his strange pelt rippling around him silkily. Putting his head to the side, he was silent for a moment, and then mewed, "A moon."

Declan scoffed. "You want me to fetch you the _moon_?"

"Do not be ridiculous. I don't want you to fetch me the moon. I want you to fetch for me _for _a moon. One moon's worth of service for one mouse." Lucky's eyes darted to Twist and away again. "You also, for lying."

"Lying!" she echoed, outraged. "I haven't—"

"Tell me, how is Wisp doing today?" Lucky smoothly cut her off. "Is her wound hurting her?"

Twist gritted her teeth, knowing this was a test. If she answered yes and Wisp wasn't wounded, she would be caught. But if she said no and Wisp _did _have a wound, she'd also be caught. The best response was to say nothing at all, but that would force her to admit that she didn't know.

"Is this how you treat all of your Sliders?" Declan demanded, getting clumsily to his paws. One of his front paws was curled under a little, with blood leaking between the claws. Twist felt a jolt of anger, and found herself wondering which of the two guards had injured him.

Then she caught herself—it's not like it mattered.

"My Sliders, no," Lucky said coolly. "But you are not one of my Sliders, friend. You will stay here for your time and then I will let you go—really, no problem. But you must work for that entire moon without any slipups. If you mess up, if you endanger my family, I will have you taken care of." His eyes flashed as he lowered his head, and though he didn't bare his teeth or bristle at them, the threat clear in his voice. "Do we have an agreement?"

Twist felt a little shiver of fear before she could stop it. Such shadows she saw in this cat's eyes…

Declan stared back levelly at Lucky for a moment longer before dropping his gaze, shoulders bristling.

Lucky lifted his head, satisfied. "Good. Now, if you will excuse me, I have business to attend you."

He walked past them, eyes lingering over Twist for a moment longer, and then he was gone.

Twist dashed to Declan's side, prodding his wounded side with her nose. "What did they do to you?" she hissed, outraged.

Declan's eyes glimmered with amusement. "Are you worried about me?"

Irritated, Twist snorted. "I just wanted to know so I could give them flowers. They obviously deserve some consolation prize. Surely you weren't the best victim to pick on."

Declan didn't even twitch a whisker at that. "What are you still doing here, Twist?"

"I came here because—" She cut off abruptly, knowing what he was asking. "No reason. I was in the area."

"Uh-huh." He looked unimpressed. "You came here to save me, didn't you?"

Gritting her teeth, she said, "That's not true."

"Aaw." He closed his eyes, purring. "You _do _like me."

Twist's ears flattened against her head and she looked away, growling in the back of her throat. "Let's get going. I bet we can sneak out when no one's looking."

"Okay." Declan got to his paws, falling halfway back down, hissing in pain. "My paw," he gritted out. "Oh, _stars_, it hurts."

Twist was a little surprised to hear him use the word "stars." She'd never heard him say it before—but maybe that was because she didn't know him, she reminded herself patiently, feeling a flush through her pelt as if from heat. "Well, get up," she said pitilessly. "We have to get going, remember?"

"Ah. Lucky said you'd be tricky ones."

Twist whirled around to see that same one-eyed cat she'd seen coming in. His pelt was thick and deep gray, banded with wide black stripes, and ending with a white-tipped tail, which swished behind him. His single eye was a bright amber, and the place where his other eye should be was just a slash of puckered pink-gray skin. She felt she shouldn't stare, but the oddness of it was too overcoming.

"Yes, go ahead." The cat lifted his chin to display his mutilated face. "And if you must know, I lost it in a fight with a wolf."

"A wolf?" she repeated, disbelief clear in her tone.

He laughed. "Okay, I fell off a fence. But the wolf story sounds so much more impressive, doesn't it? My name's Viktor, by the way, and it looks like I'll be sitting you kits. Until you either learn the rules or leave." Tilting his head to one side, he added, "Hopefully it will be the former."

Twist growled inwardly. Clearly, this was going to be more difficult.

"Lucky told me that you two had some sort of connection," Viktor went on. "I didn't believe it, since I saw you walk in together, but now I definitely see it."

Twist's pelt felt hot again. "What's that supposed to mean?" she snarled.

Declan, however, narrowed his eyes suspiciously and asked, "So what does that have to do with anything?"

Twist rounded on him furiously, but Viktor beat her there. Shrugging, he said, "He told me to split the two of you up. That's why I'm here, you see. You, friend, come with me on shoveling duty. And the pretty she-cat's got fetching duty."

"The name's Twist," she growled coldly.

"And I'm Declan." Declan's voice had suddenly switched back to his happy-go-lucky tone, and he got to his paws carefully. Curling his tail over his back, he padded to Viktor's side and mewed, "Let's go then. I want to get started."

Viktor didn't even twitch a whisker at that. Dipping his head, he flicked his tail over Declan's back—whom he towered over like a no-pelt machine—and let out a rusty purr. "I knew we would be friends. Come, Twist, and I'll get you to your station."

Twist, ears so hard against her skull that they were beginning to ache, had no choice but to follow him out of Lucky's den and back into the series of tunnels. What was Declan's plan now? No doubt that stupid tom was up to something—especially in the way that he'd switched so swiftly between angry to cheerful. _I have to keep an eye on him, _she thought. _Him and Lucky both. _Something about that tom rubbed her the wrong way—not one thing, she realized, but several. For instance, why did he have such dark, empty eyes? Why was he here? What was his relation to Wisp? Who was he, exactly? Was he born here? Had he always been the leader? And why would he be the leader if he was so clearly young?

She realized Viktor was talking, and leaning in closer now, reluctantly curious.

"And so every day we have to clear out some of the things those no-pelts toss in here," he was explaining. "Even though this dump has been disused—you could probably tell by the way they'd tried to close off the opening with those long pieces of wood—they still like to throw in their rubbish. It takes the better part of the day, and most of it can get plenty heavy, so we always choose the strongest among us. Good for you, friend, that you got selected. That means that Lucky sees something in you."

_He's so blessed, _Twist found herself thinking.

"This is called metal, by the way." Viktor reached up with his tail and flicked the top of the tunnel. "These are called pipes. No-pelts use them in their houses somehow, but not ones these big. They carry water, usually."

"You know an awful lot about no-pelts," Twist grumbled.

Viktor shot an amused look back at her. "I used to be a pet."

"A pet?" Twist echoed the word. _Like Iago, _she added.

He nodded. "A few of us used to be. It's not that uncommon. I mean, look at this one here." He nudged Declan's shoulder jovially. "He's got that look about him."

Twist looked at Declan now, alarmed. Was he once a no-pelt pet, too?

Declan looked embarrassed. "Is it so easy to tell that kind of thing? I mean, I haven't been with them for…a long time." He shot a glance back at Twist, embarrassment in his expression, and she felt a dull pang in her belly.

Viktor chuckled—in his deep voice, the sound was like stones grinding together. "Don't be ashamed of where you come from, friend. It just gives you something to move forward to, doesn't it?" He stopped when the pipe ended, curling out of the nest of boxes a few tail-lengths below them. "Alright, Twist, you go with Snit and Audrey there." He nodded toward a pair of cats lounging on top of a machine paw.

Declan waited until Viktor had turned away to go before darting over to her, his eyes pleading. "I'll explain everything later, I swear," he said breathlessly, pressing his nose against her cheek for an instant before running over to Viktor's side again.

Twist watched him go, mouth open in shock.

"Hey, hey, hey!" The ginger tabby she-cat came padding up, eyes bright with excitement. "A newbie, huh? Well, I'm Audrey and this is my buddy, Snit!" She turned expectantly to the side, but the other tom had not followed her. Frowning, she rounded on him, snapping, "Get over here!"

The tom, black-and-white with a mismatched pair of eyes—one blue and the other gold—sighed gustily and heaved himself to his paws. "Hello," he said dully, sounding like he'd said this speech a thousand times. "My name is Snit, and I will be your guide to being a Slider. You, friend, are welcome among our ranks, and we hope you will be happy here with us. If you will follow me, I will lead you to your station." He turned away, flicking his tail for her to follow.

Audrey bounced right after him, her light white paws barely touching the ground. "Don't worry about him," she whispered loudly to Twist, one ear turned to point at Snit. "He's not usually this grumpy. You're Twist, right? Lucky said that you were one of Wisp's cats."

"Yes," she answered, hoping that Audrey would think that she was talking about her name and not Wisp.

But Audrey was barely listening. "Snit! Snit!" she called cheerfully, skipping up to his side and pressing her flank to his, curling her tail over his back. "You're supposed to be happy, remember? A new member is a happy occasion. Aren't you excited?"

"Ecstatic," he said blandly.

Twist's whiskers twitched as she fought back a laugh. Now _this _was a cat she could appreciate.

Audrey wasn't deterred. Turning her bright eyes back on Twist, she purred, "We're almost there!"

"What is this job, anyway?" Twist looked around at the terrain, as if that would give some clue to what was next.

"Fetching," Audrey said promptly.

"But what does that mean?" Twist pressed.

"You'll see soon enough, won't you?" Snit grumbled.

Audrey just flicked his shoulder good-humoredly. "Calm down, grumpy-paws," she said teasingly. "He's not usually like this. He's just mad that there's someone new in the Sliders. Two new ones, I suppose, if we count your mate."

"He's not my mate," Twist said immediately, flattening her ears, angry with the insinuation. "I don't even know him."

"Uh-huh." Audrey flicked her ears at Twist teasingly. "I can totally tell that."

"Leave her alone, nosy kit." Snit's gruff voice sounded over his back. "You're being annoying."

"I am not!" Audrey looked astonished. "I'm just asking questions."

Snit just shook his head, whirling to face them, his weird eyes looking between the two of them. "We're here."

Twist looked past his shoulder at the scene behind him. It was a large pile of metal, shiny and sharp-looking in the bright light. Around it were scattered tiny fragile bones, bleached clean white by the hot sun. She could see tufts of fur flitting by on the weak breeze. "What's this?"

"Fetching." Snit turned to look at Twist directly, calculating. "You know how to hunt?"

"Yes," she said, offended.

"Then go ahead." He motioned forward with a black-tipped tail. "This is your job now. You see, we have these things called _rats. _They're big, they're brown, and they're full of good meat. So, friend, go and kill some of them." He put his head to one side, eyes narrowing condescendingly, and added, "You do know what rats are, don't you, friend?"

"Cut it out, Snit," Audrey said, her voice losing its warmth for a moment.

Snit looked at her shortly, then cast his gaze away. "Sorry. But get hunting, alright?" And then he trotted off, tail low and swishing, disappearing behind the pile of metal.

"Sorry about that," Audrey said in hushed tones, her eyes watching Snit's path. "He's not very comfortable with new cats."

Twist didn't know what to say to that, so she asked, "Shall we get hunting?"

Audrey turned to her, relieved, and mewed, "Sure."

They hunted for the rest of the day, and all the while Twist was testing the fences, as the boundaries were called. Now, with five rats piled haphazardly behind her, she approached a new section of the fence, eyes concentrated. It rose in front of her, straight up maybe three or four fox-lengths, far too high to leap over. Nothing was piled near the fence—nothing that could be used to jump from, anyway. They were flat and made of wood, with no grip to them. Deflated, she stepped back to her pile of rats and picked up three of them by their tails, hauling them over to where Snit and Audrey had amassed their own catches.

Snit gave the rats an appreciative sniff as she approached; Audrey was nowhere in sight. "Good job."

"There're two more back there." She flicked her tail behind her.

"Some other cat will deal with those. Pick up as much of these as you can and we'll head back to base."

"Won't you need to go and collect them now before they get stolen?" she asked dubiously.

He just shrugged. "Who's to steal? No cat steps in here but a Slider, you know? And we only let the ones picked by Lucky or Wisp in. If they don't like you, then you're no good." He looked away toward the pile of metal again, his pelt dusty, and his eyes wandering.

Twist looked at him curiously, wondering what he was looking for.

Audrey came prancing up, rats dangling from her mouth, and Snit immediately turned to her, that hungry expression vanishing. "Hey," she greeted through rat tails. "Sorry I'm so late."

"What took you?" Snit demanded. "We've been waiting."

"But not for very long," Twist felt the need to say.

Audrey blinked, affectionately brushing Twist's ears with her tail and started back to base. "Well, then, let's get moving!"

Snit picked up a mouthful of rats and followed after, his eyes narrowed, and Twist followed after, looking longingly behind her at the fence and wondering how to get into the cool grass on the other side.

* * *

Lucky's eyes glinted as they returned with their prey to the pile that was growing in the center of the large hollow below the main metal tunnel. "Excellent," he purred, tail swishing. "These will feed many queens. You have done well."

"Thanks," Snit growled, taking a rat for himself and walking away already. Lucky's eyes followed him, but he didn't say anything.

Audrey snatched up a rat and turned to Twist expectantly. "Wanna share? This is too much for me to eat by myself."

Twist looked at it hesitantly, then mewed, "No thanks. I'm not that hungry."

Audrey looked disappointed, and Twist felt weird for being upset about that. "But I thought we could be friends!" she mewed, plaintive as a hungry kit, and Twist's guilt faded a little.

Lucky's low, measured voice surprised her. "Actually, Twist, I was hoping you would share a meal with me."

Twist turned to him, surprised and a little unsettled. "What?"

"You are new here," he explained. "I always have the first meal with a new member of the Sliders. It is helpful to find out everything that the new cat is bringing to our family."

"Then you'd be sharing with Declan, too, right?" Twist asked, her voice a little sharp.

Lucky's expression didn't change, but Twist thought _something_ did, something that he kept hidden behind those dark, dark eyes. "Of course. Once he has returned from his chores, your friend will join us. Please, Audrey, go and find Snit and give him my congratulations on his newest accomplishment. He is truly an asset to our family."

Audrey dipped her head, blinked once at Twist friendlily, and then bounced out of the prey-den.

Lucky stepped closer and now Twist could smell his scent—strange and slightly sweet, like the honey she'd found in the woods the night before last. "Please, Twist, there is no need to be frightened of the Sliders," he murmured. "We are a family now—you included. If you feel uncomfortable, it will pass. We will take care of you."

Unnerved again, Twist shied away from him, and she could see how he took the gesture as insulting. "I'm sorry," she said, compulsively, confusingly. "I'm…not good with other cats."

Lucky's eyes didn't waver. "I understand. I apologize for my pressing. I will leave you to your meal."

"N-no," she started but he'd already left, taking no prey with him. She watched him go, feeling bad about how she'd spoken—even though every word was the truth, seemingly forced from her by those dark eyes—and wondered how she could rectify the problem.

Then her brain kicked in and whispered, _By getting out of this place and never looking back._

And then, she realized, forcibly almost, that wish was what she had wanted her entire life.

* * *

**Okay, so I have some kinda bad news.**

**I reviewed the rules for NaNoWriMo, and it looks like I need to start a new story for my win to be genuine. So I'mma have to go on hiatus now for just a little while. I mean, I wanna win the right way, y'know, and updating this seems kinda...not the right way. I'll try to write another chapter in my downtime or if I'm high on my word-count, though...maybe. :P**

**But for now, this seems like a goodbye. So...see you guys in December!**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	7. Chapter 7

**Heeeey, guys! So I won NaNoWriMo on day 19 and I've been pretty much chilling since then. XD I'm going to use my coupon for a free proof copy on like a compilation of my Warriors fics, and I just got done formatting it or whatever. 833 pages, naaaaaatch. I feel like such a lame-o. XD**

**A fallen tree - Good news! It's not anymore! XD**

**LegendaryHero - Yeah, I know. I forgot the rules of NaNo; I got it mixed up with WriDaNoJu, in which you could write anything. =\ I've got to get all this explanationy crap out of the way before I launch back into the action. :3**

**Amazingly awesome person - Heehee~ I'm glad you like them. I'm a little worried that I'm introducing too many new characters, but I don't wanna just have Twist and Declan talking the whole time. That would be really boring. XD **

**The Last Sketch - Oh, haaaaaaaaaaaaaai, new reviewer~! :D:D**

**Deviant - Oh, really? Well, if you wouldn't mind, before I agree or whatever, could you link me to your profile? Just so I can see it if you do decide to make a comic. :D**

**Deltora - I do not, in fact. I have zero artistic skill. Like, stick-figures-type art. Not even that. Maybe smudges. And if it looks good, it's probably on accident. XD I'm a writer and a musician, but nothin' else. XD**

**And onto the story~!**

* * *

After some loitering around awkwardly while other cats came and went from the pile of prey, Twist decided to find a place to lie down and wait for Declan to come back. It was nearing sunset now, and the glint of sunlight off of the metal pipes that crisscrossed above her was nearly blinding.

She was annoyed, annoyed at Lucky and his strange eyes and mannerisms and annoyed at him keeping her here when she hated so much to be around other cats. And annoyed at Declan, whom she just remembered, like a burst of light, was a no-pelt pet.

_How could he not have told me? _she thought, raking her claws along the pipe. _I thought he wanted to tell me everything—or so he said. Maybe he was ashamed of being one, or something._

"Would you kindly stop that racket?" Twist looked up to see Viktor approaching, his ears back crossly and his single eye squinting. "I'm trying to catch up on my beauty rest."

Twist looked at him blandly; he would certainly need a lot of that. "Sorry."

But Viktor twitched his tail in amusement. "Why don't you make yourself useful and help me carry back some meat to my kits? It'll pass some time while you wait for your buddy."

"Do you know where he is?" she asked.

"Still clearing garbage, I'd imagine." He shrugged. "Come on, now. Let's go."

Sighing heavily, she got to her paws and followed after him, grabbing a fat rat from the top of the pile. Viktor led her down under the boxes to where the dens were, hunched underneath the edge of the main pipe. The ground here was soft with trampled feathers and swathes of moss, studded in places by large rocks to hold the whole thing together. Small bones littered the floor here and there, the yellowed teeth in the old skulls telling Twist that they were all rats.

"Don't you eat anything besides rats?" she asked, scuffing aside a pile of tiny rib bones.

"It's difficult to hunt outside these walls," Viktor told her, without turning around. "There are others out there that wish harm to cats that aren't pets."

"You mean those no-pelts?"

"Right. They think we're all pretty little kitties and they get a little startled when it turns out we aren't." He glanced back over his shoulder, his eye narrowed teasingly. "Besides, who cares for those feathery little birdies? It's too hard to pluck out all the fluff. I'd much rather have a nice juicy rat."

_Then how did you get all these feathers? _she wondered, stepping over a particularly large tuft of the white fluffy stuff.

Viktor let out a deep, rusty purr, and bounded forward quickly, his tail curling over his back. Twist looked past him to see that milky-white queen she'd seen him nuzzling when she first entered the dens; she had a litter of kits nestled into her silky fur.

"Kite," Viktor mewed affectionately, pressing his forehead to the she-cat's. "How are you?"

The she-cat, Kite, purred loudly. "I'm fine, Viktor," she answered. "The kits are doing great today. The little gray one even got on his paws and tottered around for a bit." She looked past her mate's shoulder to see Twist waiting there, and her eyes widened. "Oh! Hello! Who are you?"

"I'm a new cat," Twist started, but Viktor cut her off.

"This is a new friend. Twist. She's one of Wisp's cats." Viktor looked up and added, "Kite's one of Wisp's cats, too. But she was brought to the Sliders a long time ago before her eyes were even open."

"I can tell the story myself, Viktor," Kite said testily, rising up onto her haunches and yawning widely. "Wisp found me nearby. A bird had swooped me right up and stolen me, and it dropped me on the riverside. I nearly drowned from the water rising before she caught me. Plucked me right up from the sand like I was a mouse." Her eyes misted over as she reminisced. "Wisp named me after that bird. They're called kites. Big white birds with brown wings."

"I was already here by then," Viktor put in. "It was right after my eye'd been hurt and I was recovering. When you're a Slider, you have to watch out after a young'un after a while. It's part of the rite of passage. So while I was recovering and lying about in horrible agony," he said, his voice teasingly affectionate as he looked at his mate, "this one was rolling around mewling. And I had to change all her bedding!"

Kite's eyes softened, and she pushed her muzzle against his neck fur. "You're so mean to me," she whispered.

He chuckled, licking her over the ear.

Twist fought the urge to be sick as the couple cooed over each other. She cleared her throat loudly. "The meat?"

Viktor pulled away from his mate and picked up the rat. Tossing it over to Twist, he said, "Skin that. And I'll take it from there." He turned to Kite and began talking again, his voice nearly too low to hear.

Twist flipped the rat around in her paws, trying to figure out how to best skin it. She'd heard the saying, "There's more than one way to skin a mouse" but never knew she'd eventually be taking it seriously. At last, she decided to just bite into it and take it from there.

"Has Lucky been speaking to you lately?" Kite asked softly.

"No, not today. I spoke with him yesterday to ask what he thought about the naming and he said he had a lot on his mind." Viktor sounded annoyed.

"Don't," Kite said gently. "He has a lot on his mind. It's difficult to be the leader."

"I would appreciate it if he took more stock in the next generation of Sliders," he said, huffing an irritable sigh.

But Kite just laughed. "You're just saying that because these are _your _kits, Viktor," she said, with a happy shine in her eyes.

Twist, who had managed to partially skin the rat, looked up. "Are you not allowed to name your own kits?"

Kite shook her head. "Lucky names all the kits in the Sliders. It's one of his duties."

"Don't you think that takes some of the fun of kits out of it?" she asked, ripping the pelt off of the rat and pushing it out to Viktor, who began to pull the meat from it.

Kite looked puzzled at that. "Absolutely not. I'd have kits all the same, even if I didn't get to name them." She spared a warm glance down at them; three had white pelts like her and the other was a dark gray tabby like Viktor. "They're the joy of my life, these little ones. It's the same with any mother; yours was probably the same, Twist."

Twist bit her lip to cover up the sorrow that swept through her at the very mention of her mother. "Yes," she agreed vaguely, watching the little kits stir at the smell of meat. "Their eyes are open!" she said, surprised.

"Yes, but they haven't been for long." Kite nuzzled the gray kit, who had pushed its way away from its littermates; its eyes were still kit-blue. "I bet they'd love to try some meat for once. Let's see how it goes down."

Viktor got to his paws and shuffled over to them, dropping a mouthful of chewed meat in front of the kits. They scrambled over to it, their high voices raised in surprise and curiosity. Twist saw the gray kit push his siblings out of the way to get to the food and purred.

"He'll be a strong one," she said.

"Yes, he will." Viktor lay down beside Kite and twined his tail with hers, purring loudly. "They all will be."

One of the little white kits, this one with a smudge of brown across its tail, nudged its brother over and took a bite of meat, its tiny purr vibrating in the air. Suddenly, it seemed to have caught her scent, and it looked over at her, eyes very wide and very blue. Pushing its littermates aside, it scrambled over to her, stopping in front of her to stare at her.

"Two toms and two she-cats?" Twist asked, not looking away from the curious little kit.

"Sure enough." Viktor puffed out his chest boastfully. "The most that any cat's had in the Sliders since its creation. All thanks to this pretty little she-cat next to me." He turned soft eyes on Kite, who laughed affectionately.

Twist grimaced again and looked down at the kit; he'd managed to get over his mother's long draping tail and was now trying to clamber up Twist's. She looked down at him, feeling a rush of strange affection for this kit she barely knew, and dropped her head to gently touch her nose to his head. "Hello, little kit," she murmured. "How are you?"

The kit, who obviously was too young to know how to speak, drew back and tilted his head to one side. Then he opened his mouth widely and let out a loud squeak.

Viktor purred. "I think he likes you."

Twist had to agree that she liked him, too. The delight she felt watching the kits play was something completely foreign to her; she'd never really had any experience with kits in the past, but their adorable little antics were infectiously happy. She watched with them a kind of strange glee, her tail flicking behind her, and didn't even notice the time passing until Lucky walked in.

"Hello," he said, in his strange measured tones. "Viktor, Kite, are you ready for the ceremony?" He looked over to where now all the kits were tumbling over Twist, and his tail flipped in surprise. "Oh, Twist. It is nice to see you. It seems that you are getting along well with these kittens."

"Yeah, they're pretty cute, I guess. If you're into kits," she said, sniffing disinterestedly, but all the while watching as the little white kit gnawed on his brother's striped tail.

Lucky's dark eyes flashed and she wondered what he'd detected in her voice. "Yes, I see. Well, allow me to escort you back to my den for the naming ceremony. Have you selected a witness for the occasion?"

Viktor and Kite exchanged a quick glance, then Viktor purred, "We have. And here she is." He nodded at Twist.

Twist started. "Me?"

"Why not?" Kite came over and stood in front of her, tail swishing and eyes sparkling. "You're all ready acquainted with them. And I do think they rather like you."

Twist felt a little embarrassed as she tugged her tail loose from one of the white she-kits. "But…this sounds like an important event…"

"It is," Viktor said. "But it can be a welcoming event for you. Right into the Sliders, yeah?"

"I…I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." Kite ran her tail down Twist's flank in such a motherly way that Twist actually felt comforted. "It's really our pleasure. Now come on; you can carry one, too."

Twist bent down and snatched up the little white tom by the scruff, holding him awkwardly as he squirmed and churned his paws in midair. "Is that okay?" she asked worriedly, in a voice muffled by soft fur.

Kite laughed. "Yes. Just make sure you don't bump him into the walls or anything."

The other three picked up the remaining kits and headed toward Lucky's den. Every pawstep they took, Twist felt even guiltier, even though she knew she had no reason to be. The whole day she'd been working here, the Sliders had been nothing but kind and generous to her, despite the fact that they wouldn't let her leave like she wanted to. By the sound of it, this naming ceremony was incredibly important, and she just couldn't believe that they would trust her enough to allow her to witness it.

They ran into two large cats blocking the entrance to Lucky's den—not Kent and Boulder, but two tabby warriors—but they stepped aside and let them pass by, though Twist felt their suspicious eyes on her. Her fur ruffled along her spine, but she ignored them, focusing on the now-limp kit dangling from her jaws. He'd gone quiet now, but his breathing was quick and shallow, and she wondered if he was afraid of the leader, too.

Then she caught herself. _I'm _not _afraid of him, _she thought firmly.

Lucky swept into his den, where there were two more warriors. "Leave us," he murmured, and they went without a word, disappearing out into the dark tunnel. Lucky's eyes followed them, the dark depths unfathomable, before turning to the three other cats, lightening at once. "Today is a special day for you two," he murmured. "And these four little kits. They will make beautiful Sliders when they have fully grown."

Viktor bent his head. "Thank you, Lucky."

"Yes," Lucky said slowly, walking up to where the kits were laying confusedly, their little pelts bristling with uncertainty. "They will be wonderful Sliders." He looked up at the hole in the ceiling, through where the weak sunset was shining, throwing long shadows over the round walls of his den.

"Is Wisp not coming?" Kite sounded disappointed.

"Unfortunately, no. She is still recovering from injury."

_So she really did have a wound! _Twist thought.

Lucky closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, he was much more serious. "Do you believe them to be in need of names at this time, Viktor and Kite?"

His words sounded formal, and Twist wondered if the ceremony had already begun without any notice. Her thought was confirmed as Kite murmured, "Yes, Lucky. My mate and I have found them in need of strong names."

Lucky nodded. "Very well." He bent his head and touched the gray kit on the head; the little kit didn't shrink away, but pressed closer, his little whiskers twitching as he took in the leader's scent. "Welcome to the Sliders, young tom. From this day forward, you will be blessed with the name Adder. Welcome to the family, Adder."

He continued this way with the two she-kits—naming them Whisper and Violet—and then got to the little tom Twist was carrying. "Welcome to the Sliders, young tom. From this day forward, you will be blessed with the name Stripe. Welcome to the family, Stripe."

Twist felt an immediate and sickeningly icy plunge in her belly. _Stripe. Not Stripes. _She tried to force her brain out of its numb shock but she could already hear the blood pounding in her ears, hard and loud like heavy footfalls, and she knew it was probably agonizingly clear in her eyes—_fear. _

"Twist?" Kite's nervous voice sounded a thousand lives away.

"She is going to fall," Lucky said matter-of-factly, but Twist couldn't even stomach the idea of fainting in front of other cats, so she yanked herself into a standing position, even though her whiskers trembled.

"No," she said, and she was proud that her voice was even. "I'm not. I'm fine. I think I was out in the sun for too long."

But her lie didn't fool Lucky. "The witness is allowed to change the name of a single kit during the ceremony," he said. "Would you like to invoke this?"

Twist looked over at Viktor and Kite, both of who looked worried for her, and then down at the newly-named Stripe. He was looking up at her with those bright, innocent blue eyes. "Yes," she said. "I would."

Kite blinked, surprised. "You must really not like that name," she joked.

Relieved, Twist seized upon the idea. "It's just too plain for such a cute little kit," she mewed. "He deserves a better name."

Lucky's eyes flashed with something, anger maybe—and she realized she had just innocently insulted him—and then it was gone. "Was there a name you would like to submit, Twist?" he asked, and his voice was faintly testy.

With a growing feeling of awkwardness, Twist looked down at the kit, who was now chasing his own tail. She'd never had the opportunity to name a kit before, and whatever she suggested would be stuck with this little tom for the rest of his life; it was almost daunting, and she felt a curious sense of nervousness, as if she was about to do something stupid.

"How about…Streak?" she suggested lamely, looking at that smudge of brown that looped around his tail.

"Streak," Lucky echoed. "It is a good name. I approve of it." He bent and touched his nose to the kit's head. "There. The ceremony is done."

Kite purred loudly, her chest practically vibrating, and padded up to touch her nose to Lucky's. "Thanks, Lucky," she mewed. "They're beautiful names. You, too, Twist." She licked Twist's ear. "I knew it was a good choice for you to be the witness."

"But you barely know me," Twist said, embarrassed.

"If Lucky trusts you, we trust you." Viktor nodded to Lucky once more, then picked up Whisper, nudging Violet to her paws, and headed back to their den. Kite followed behind with Adder swinging from her jaws, leaving Twist with Streak.

"Twist, may I ask you something?" He called out briefly to one of his door-guards, who came in and took Streak to bring him back out to his parents.

"Um…" She clearly had no other choice.

Lucky waited until the other cats were out of hearing range before turning to her, head to one side. "You know, I really cannot figure you out, Twist. You tell me that you are one of Wisp's cats, when I know you are clearly not. I asked her about it earlier this afternoon. Regardless, she does not make decisions without speaking with me, no matter what my cats believe." He sounded almost smug.

Twist put her ears back and said nothing.

Lucky watched her for a moment, his mouth to one side speculatively. "But," he said softly, "my cats do trust you. Strange, I know. But you and Declan have already been accepted into the Sliders without even but a day going by. It is remarkable. There is something about you two that is somehow drawing my cats to you." His eyes drifted away to the wall. "Strange."

Twist fidgeted while he was silent. "I like them," she said finally, anything to break the oppressive quiet.

"Yes, that is evident. But I wonder where it is you came from that made you so adverse to the name Stripe. Would you tell me if I asked you?"

Twist ground her teeth together, her brow contracting over her eyes. "I don't know," she whispered at last.

Lucky narrowed his eyes shrewdly, head to one side. "Curious."

"What is?"

"You. It's very odd that I come across a cat so…secretive. I look forward to figuring you out, Twist."

"Does that mean you'll allow me to stay here?" she asked, throat dry. Surely he wouldn't kill her for her lies…would he?

Lucky laughed softly, but there was something off about the sound. "You are worrying for nothing, friend. I mean you no harm—truly. You and Declan are welcome here, I told you that, and because you owe me a debt. I do not hurt those who are indebted to me, no matter what they do. What you have done in the past is nothing to me but a curiosity; I will judge you for what you do now." His eyes drifted past her to the exit of the den. "I want you to do something for me," he said suddenly.

Confused, Twist asked, "What?"

"I want you to watch over those kits. It is your duty now, as their witness. If anything happens to their parents, you are the one who will care for them. It is the way of the Sliders." He sighed. "Hopefully nothing will. But these days there is more and more pressure being put on us. Our numbers are climbing and that means there will be more prey needed. With the cold season approaching, we will need every cat on duty and hunting, which leaves our perimeter open for thieves. Half of the Sliders are already watching the gates now; I'm sure you noticed when you came in."

"But from what? What could possibly offer a challenge to such a large group of cats?"

Lucky sighed again, but this time there was something deprecating about it. "You would be surprised. But it is late now. We will talk again soon. Find your friend and get some rest. We will start early tomorrow." He turned his back on her, his tawny pelt lit gold from the light above. "Goodnight, Twist. Sleep peacefully."

And Twist, confused and flustered, backed out of the den and into the pipe.

* * *

**Guuuuuys, I just got Fable III~! And they introduced that freaking music box again. AS IF I DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH NIGHTMARES ALREADY. Thanks, PM. Really. **

**On the plus side, there was an Avatar the Last Airbender marathon on all day, so that's what I've been doing since like 10 in the morning. XD I feel like such a slug. **

**Anyway, enough rambling. **

**R&R~!**

**Shadow**


	8. Chapter 8

**So I should be studying for my Lit exam, but I wrote this instead. But I mean, there's only so many times you can read "The Way of the World" and "King Lear" before you get bored. Honestly now. :P**

**And onto the story!**

* * *

After being ousted from Lucky's den, Twist found herself wandering aimlessly around the Sliders' den—what the rest of the group seemed to call the Warren. Twist hadn't heard the word before, but it seemed to be in reference to some kind of animal nest. As she walked by, she noticed that most of the cats here were of the heavily-scarred variety, some even putting Viktor's missing eye to shame. They all also seemed to be male, and with further speculation, she realized that Kite was the only she-cat she'd seen.

A large ginger tom stalked by, both ears tattered to ribbons. He blinked when he saw her. "Who're you?" he demanded, his voice gruff.

She flattened her ears. "Who're _you_?"

He stared for a moment longer before laughing in carrying, booming tones, making Twist start. "Good show, then, friend," he mewed, his laugh trailing off into chuckles. "I'm River. Nice to meet you…?" He trailed off, looking at her imploringly.

Twist watched him uncertainly for a moment before relenting. "Twist."

"Twist!" he echoed, with such surprise it was as if he'd never heard the word before in his life. "You're that one they're all talking about!"

"Who's they?" she asked, suddenly fearful.

"You know," he said, with a vague wave of his tail. "Everyone." He looked up at the sky quickly; it was nearly dark, but mostly clear, so she was surprised when he said, "You better get inside soon, Twist. It's going to storm pretty heavy tonight." Then, with a friendly swish of his tail, he trotted off.

Twist watched him go with a kind of bewildered interest. These cats, she thought with a huff. They were all so strange. It was as if they were all dropped on their heads as kits.

She walked along the perimeter of the Warren, peeking out at the slightly opened gates. Flint was still standing there, his posture alert and quick, but his tail was drooped mournfully. The other two cats she'd seen—Kent and Gravel, she thought—were nowhere to be seen.

The border fence turned into a sharp corner at the far end of the Warren, and she looked up at where she could see the brilliant red-and-gold leaves waving in the slight breeze, which had an edge of chill to it. She shivered, aching to be out where the newly-discovered grass was soft and cool under her paws, not this hard-packed sand and stinking pebbly ground.

"You should get inside, Twist."

She whirled around, expecting Declan, but was surprised to see it was a she-cat. _So there are other ones here, _she thought quickly.

Perched on top of a large no-pelt machine's paw was a cat, paws curled beneath her chest. The she-cat was old and dark cream-colored, with a white underbelly and paws, and a dark brown face. Her whiskers were long and tenuously silver in the pale light of the now-hidden moon, but flecked all around her mouth and chin were gray hairs. Her thick fur was long and silky, luxuriously smooth and unmarked, except for the dark brown stripe that ran down her spine and the dark rings on her legs.

"It's going to storm soon," the she-cat went on, getting to her paws and stretching her legs, curling her white-tipped tail behind her back and yawning. "You don't want to be in a storm like that when it really gets going. Rip the fur right off your back sometimes." Her yellow eyes sparkled. "You don't know me."

"Should I?" Twist was frightened now. The she-cat's tall legs sent bars of shadows streaking across the pale ground right towards her; she stepped back quickly to where the harsh yellow no-pelt light shone, feeling relieved.

The she-cat watched this with shrewd eyes. "You should," she said at last, delicately tipping her head in Twist's directions. "You are one of my cats, are you not?"

Then it all clicked into place. "You're Wisp."

Wisp didn't answer the question directly. Instead, she leapt down lightly from her perch, hitting the ground with a slight intake of breath. It was then that Twist saw the trio of lines that lanced up the she-cat's side from chest to spine. "You shouldn't be telling lies around here, Twist," Wisp mewed, sternly but gently. "Lucky doesn't take well to liars."

Twist flattened her ears. "I'm not a liar."

"No, but you didn't tell the whole truth, did you?" Wisp sighed. "It's not wise to be tight-lipped as it is to be so loose-tongued." Her eyes flashed again. "A healthy median is the way to go."

Twist shifted from paw to paw, unsure of what to think. Wisp certainly seemed to fit the idea of the Sliders' mother, but there was something about her that Twist found unsettling.

Wisp relaxed with a soft release of breath. "Come here, kit, and let me look at you."

Her voice was so gentle and coaxing that Twist found herself moving forward automatically, walking until she was practically nose-to-nose with the old she-cat.

Wisp gently sniffed at Twist's shoulder, pressed her dry nose against her pelt, flipped her tail over Twist's back. "You're very strong, aren't you?" she said softly. "Strong in temperament as well." She purred. "I'm sure your friend Declan is quite patient."

Twist gritted her teeth, her ears pressed back against her head.

"Judging from your hard pads, I'd imagine you come from the mountains. Probably one of the rogue cats." The word "rogue" surprised Twist but she didn't let it show for a single twitch of her whiskers. "You're alone. You don't have a family. The loss of a dear one has hardened your heart." Wisp gently pressed her nose close, and Twist closed her eyes as she felt it touch in the soft fur between them. "You are lonely. You want a family again. But you are troubled. You are afraid of shadows. You are afraid of night—the moonless sky as well as the darkness in hearts." Wisp let out a soft purr, so low and rusty that Twist could barely hear it. "But, Twist, you must understand that night and day exist inside of us in equal measure. You cannot always fear the shadows in the same way you cannot always look for the light." Then she withdrew, and Twist opened her eyes to see Wisp sitting back down calmly, drawing a tongue over her paw and cleaning her ears.

Twist was trembling. "H-how did you do that?" she asked, her voice shaking.

Wisp looked surprised. "What, dear?"

"You…you…" She didn't even know how to describe it.

Wisp laughed, her voice rusty as if with disuse. "I gleaned some information from you," she acquiesced. "It's not actually that difficult; I have met many cats like you."

That rubbed Twist the wrong way. Flattening her ears, she growled, "What are you saying? I'm not unique?"

"No one is fully unique," Wisp said breezily, laying back down on the ground; her cream pelt pooled around her silkily, hiding her paws from view. "All a cat is made up of is a combination of traits. Surely you didn't think you were the only one who has ever felt lonely? Surely you're not that pretentious."

"I'm not…pretentious." Twist felt angry and embarrassed, her pelt flushed. It felt like this cat Wisp was playing with her, toying with her like a kit pouncing on a stunned mouse. "I'm not stupid, so don't treat me like I am. I'm not a kit."

Wisp's eyes were half-closed and she was purring. "Was I incorrect in any of my statements?"

Twist didn't answer.

Wisp's breath hitched into a raspy laugh. "I didn't think so." Then she sighed, her amusement vanishing quickly. "But I was correct, after all. It gets rather tiring to be so correct all the time. When you get to be my age, Twist, you've seen everything before. I've seen young she-cats like you come through this town many times before, and probably many times after you leave."

"Who said anything about leaving?" she demanded. "I'm a Slider now, aren't I? That's what Lucky keeps telling me, anyway."

Wisp's eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Mm." She closed her eyes. "That's the big question, isn't it?" She got to her paws in a jerky movement, favoring her injured side. "Enough of this dreary talk. Help me back to my den."

Twist didn't move. "Why would I do that?"

"Because, dear, you aren't as tough on the inside as you appear to be outwardly." Wisp sounded annoyingly confident. "You harbor a soft side for kits, don't you? Well, in a lot of ways, the elderly and the very young are the same. We both need help from those who are more quick in wit and strong in muscle than ourselves." She looked up at Twist with those bright yellow eyes. "Well?"

Twist looked away quickly, mouth twisted, then turned back, making her gaze as stony as she could. "Where are we headed?"

1

She dropped Wisp off at her den—a large and expansive sprawl of soft white fur and feathers, lumped and twisted together into a nest. After thanking her rather dryly, Wisp pointed out Twist's own den, just a few boxes down from hers. "I hope you will be happy here, my dear," the old she-cat mewed, settling up her to chin in nest-stuff. "I know that things will go your way if you listen to your brain instead of your heart." And with that strange remark, she sent Twist away.

Twist had only been asleep for a short time when Declan finally showed up. "Hey!" she hissed furiously as he trod on her tail. "Watch it!"

"Sorry." She saw the dark sky over his shoulder, strangely starless. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I wasn't asleep," she lied.

"Oh, okay." He sounded like he didn't believe her. Settling down beside her, he said, "It took forever to find you. All of these dens look the same."

Twist looked away and grumbled, "You could have found you own den." Lucky had made sure that she'd gotten one of the box-dens that bordered the edge of the nest-place.

"Usually, my new Sliders are placed in the center of the den near the queens where it is the warmest," he had told her, dropping a mouthful of feathers over the ground. "But you told me that you are not well with others, so I will make an exception for you." His eyes had been very dark then as he looked at her. "Will this be satisfactory to you?"

"Y-yes," she had mewed, quickly turning away. "Thank you."

Declan now shuffled around the same feathers, wadding them into a more comfortable shape. "Why would I need one of my own when you have one? We can just share—share the warm, you know?"

Twist grumbled in the back of her throat and set her head on her paws. "Well, now I have to go back to sleep, since some clumsy-paws came bumbling in here and woke me up."

Declan just laughed. "Hey, I've been working hard all day today. I didn't wanna have to go and find some other place to sleep. Besides, friends share dens with friends."

"Well, we aren't friends."

"Oh, don't be that way."

She glowered at him. "It's true."

He chuckled, flicking her with his tail. "If that's so, why were you asking where I was all day?"

Her pelt flushed. "I was not!" she spluttered.

"It's okay; Viktor told me." He purred smugly. "And I thought you didn't like me. You're so nice, Twist."

"I don't like you. And I was only asking for you to see if I'd finally gotten rid of you." She flattened her ears and looked away to the far wall, glaring at it with enough ferocity that she half expected it to catch fire.

Declan's purring was even as a heartbeat as he settled down, too, draping his long tail over hers. She whisked it away angrily, her pelt hot, and scooted to the far wall. "Stay on your own side or get out!" she spat. "I don't want you here."

"Oh." Now he sounded sad, as if she'd finally hurt his feelings. "Okay." He got to his paws slowly, tail drooping until the long hairs whispered along the cardboard floor. He tottered all the way to the door before he looked back mournfully, his green eyes huge and sad. "I'll leave now. Don't worry about me—I'll be fine. I'll just go now…all alone. So alone." He stuck his nose outside, then pulled back, shivering. "It's cold," he whimpered. "So cold."

She rolled her eyes. "You're stupid," she said disparagingly.

"I know. I'm so stupid. A moron, really. But I already knew that." His last words rang with unexpected bitterness.

She blinked. "Um, what?"

Declan looked at her then, his fake-sadness fading away to be replaced by something else, something more speculative; the expression made him look much older and more mature. "I am stupid," he said softly.

Twist frowned. "Come on," she protested. "I was just kidding."

"No, you're right. It's true."

"Cut it out."

"Why not? It's the truth."

"Be serious."

His eyes flashed with something close to anger. "I _am_ serious." His voice was still soft but urgent now. "I don't know why I keep spending so much time with you when I know that something bad is going to happen eventually. It's…it's stupid of me. To risk anything happening to you…because of me." His eyes burned into hers. "It's stupid."

Twist couldn't speak.

Something flickered across his face and he relaxed at once, looking embarrassed. "Sorry. I have to go." And he turned tail and ran away that instant, his paws kicking up fluffs of feathers.

Twist watched him go incredulously, then leapt to her paws. "Hey, come back!"

He didn't get very far, just to the end of the nest-place, before she caught up to him. He looked down his shoulder at her, his face carefully blank. "What? I thought you didn't want me there."

She frowned. "Don't be like that. You can't just run off like that. Look, it's about to rain."

"It doesn't look like rain," he said, but all the same, water began to drip steadily down his whiskers, trailing silver. "Or…maybe it does."

She scoffed. "Come on back inside. It's too wet out here for you."

"You don't want me there." He sounded almost back to normal, with his usually teasing lilt.

"Don't be st— Don't be ridiculous." She shook the drops of water off of her pelt. "Come on now. Let's go back."

Declan looked away, his mouth twisted wryly. "Changed your mind so quickly, huh?"

Her pelt bristled. "Friends do that…don't they?"

"Ah, friends?" His eyes gleamed in the moonlight. "You said it. The word. No going back from that, you know."

She flattened her ears and looked away. "Whatever. Now come on." She turned and started off, skirting out of the now steadily dripping rain, shivering. The warmth of the little box-nest was comforting after the brief rain, and she curled onto the floor of it, already trying to lick her pelt dry. Declan followed after her, his thick pelt bristling with tiny droplets. His eyes were downcast sullenly, and she suddenly remembered what he'd said. She opened her mouth to ask him but, to her surprise, what came out instead was, "Were you really a pet?"

He looked surprised. "Yes."

"How long ago? Like, recently?"

"No." He shook his head, settling down on the box-ground and curling his claws into the cardboard. "No, it was a long time ago."

"Was it nice?" she asked softly, carefully watching his face.

He was silent for a moment before responding. "It was okay, I guess." He was kneading the ground, making soft little sounds that were somehow soothing. "I know you wouldn't really understand. Mountain cats have probably never even seen a…a no-pelt." He said the word as if it was foreign. "But they have pets all the time. I wasn't even the only cat. There was another one—Leo—and there was even a dog."

"A dog." She repeated the word slowly.

"You know. Like a wolf. Only smaller and more tame." He laughed a little. "I'll show you one. One of these days."

"What did you do as a pet?"

"Just laid around all day long. Ate. Slept. Climbed furniture. It was a life of luxury." His eyes drifted away to the edge of the nest. "Boring, though. I…I got out of there when I had the chance."

She had the feeling he wasn't being quite truthful, but she didn't pry; Wisp's raspy voice nagged at the back of her mind: _Surely you didn't think you were the only one who has ever felt lonely? _"I got out of the mountains when…when I got the chance," she mewed, surprising herself. "I wasn't there alone. I was…with a gang. Like this. But worse." She shivered. "Much worse. We stole prey. We took territory. We fought innocent cats—killing some. It was all fair game. It was…disgusting. I hated it," she spat, with such sudden vehemence that she was startled herself. "I hated it all but I didn't leave. I couldn't. But all the theft got to me, and all the killing…" She looked away, swallowing hard.

"Why?" he asked softly.

She grimaced, disgusted by the memories. A rush of dark fur, strong unpleasant scent, glowing yellow eyes… She shuddered. "For no reason. None at all. My…the leader's name was Stripes. He told us what to do." She swallowed again, convulsively. "And we did it."

"Couldn't you have left earlier? Why did you stay so long?" The rain was a quiet patter in the background.

"I don't know." She looked away. "It was home. The gang was the only thing I've ever known. My mother was a member of the gang for her whole life."

"And your father?"

She didn't answer.

Somewhere out in the nest-place, a cat yowled plaintively. _Kits_, she thought. _Maybe Kite and Viktor's kits. I wonder how they're handling the storm? _But the thought was disjointed, and she didn't pay much attention to it.

Declan's voice was barely more than an exhale when he asked, "Are you happy here?"

And she looked up at him, seeing the concern in his unwavering green eyes, and wondered at it. "Why…why do you care?" she asked, utterly bewildered. "Why do you care about me? I don't know you, you don't know me. Why are you so worried about me?" She got to her paws angrily, all her frustration at Wisp and the other cats and Lucky's strangeness boiling up out of her in a furious stream. "I can handle myself. I don't need anyone to look after me. I'm perfectly fine on my own!" By the end of her words, she was practically shouting. "I don't need you to take care of me!"

"I know that," he said calmly.

She didn't back down. "Then why are you so desperate to stay with me?" she hissed.

He chuckled. "Because I like you, Twist."

"You like me!" She scoffed, tail flicking behind her, her pelt bristled. "Like me—what's to like about me? I'm mean to you when you don't even do anything, I'm distrustful of everyone and everything, I can't fight, I can't protect myself." She laughed scornfully. "I can't even find my way down the mountain that I was raised on without your help. You hadn't even _been _on that mountain until that night!"

He just watched her, still serene. "Everything."

That caught her off guard. "What?"

"Everything," he repeated. "You asked what I like about you. I like everything." He shrugged. "And while we're still being honest here, I don't think you're distrustful of everyone. Considering how you let a total stranger let you down from the mountain. And not to mention the fact that you're a good hunter. Not spectacular," he mused teasingly. "But not awful."

She was still on her paws, breathing hard. "You're…making a joke about this? I'm telling you practically my whole entire life story and you're _messing around?"_ She couldn't believe it.

"I'm just happy that you're showing something, to be honest." He purred, closing his eyes blissfully. "I think it's really enlightening."

She just stared at him. "You are infuriating," she said matter-of-factly, making every word distinct.

He just let out a little happy sound, almost like a kit mewl. "And you like me, too, don't you? You wouldn't have followed me out into the night if you didn't."

"Into the night!" she repeated, her ears heating. "What's—"Then it clicked.

She'd gone outside. At night. With all the shadows in the world swirling and twisting around her, and she hadn't been afraid. She hadn't had that freezing, paralyzing fear stealing over her.

"Oh," she said softly.

"Oh," he repeated knowingly, his purr strengthening.

"Well…that's…" But she couldn't explain it. She shrugged, looking away. "Whatever."

He laughed, laying his head on his paws and closing his eyes. "Admit it. I'm like, a good luck charm for you. It's okay, let it out. You'll feel better for it."

Twist growled low in her throat. "I said whatever, alright?"But she flopped to the ground, too hard in her frustration, and almost knocked the wind out of herself. Blowing her crumpled whiskers away from her nose, she glared into the nothingness. The sky had no stars in it, she noticed again, rather distantly, though now it could be from the cloud coverage. It had stopped raining, but she could hear the steady dripping of the water off of the metal pipes, somehow less discordant that she would have imagined. It was soothing. She closed her eyes.

"Hey." Declan's voice was muted.

Her ears twitched. "What?"

"…thank you." He sounded almost shy.

She frowned in the darkness. "For what?"

"For bringing me back. I…I have a habit of running. Running away, I mean."

Twist let out a single soft huff of a laugh. "That's something we have in common, then."

"But I mean it, Twist. Thank you."

She sat up and turned around to look at him; she could barely make out the silhouette of his pricked ears and silver whiskers. "It's nothing," she mumbled.

He leaned forward and now she could see the gleam of his green eyes. "It's not. Really."

Twist felt flustered suddenly, so she laid back down on the ground quickly again and closed her eyes. After a moment of silence when she listened to her own accelerated heartbeat, she said, in a very small voice, "Thank you…for the…shadows." She cleared her throat. "You know...what I mean?"

He purred, and his warm tail flicked over her back quickly, barely brushing her fur. "I know," he mewed back. "Goodnight, Twist."

Feeling suddenly light, she said back, "Goodnight, Declan."

* * *

**Da daaaaaah! And yet another chapter completed. I'm pretty happy with the way this is progressing, but I'd love to get some like, you know, action going. XD Maybe I'll look into that for the next chapter or so. :D**

**Anyway, I think I should go conjugate some Russian verbs now to make myself feel useful. XD**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	9. Chapter 9

**Heeey~**

**Well, I'm done with school for the semester. -multiple self-high-fives- And now I can sleeeeeeeeeep~! And, er, write. Yeah, that too. XD**

**LegendaryHero - Eeh! I forgot to do responses, I guess. Hey, it was exam-study week, cut me some slack! XD On the plus side, I got all A's on my exams...except for one C on Communications. But I mean, come on: I'm going to be a writer anyway, so I'm gonna be in a little room typing for a living. I don't need to communicate! XD**

**The Last Sketch - Hee~! I'm glad you enjoy the story so much! -very flattered- **

**Kitro Kat - Hee~ Thank yooooou~ I tried to go with different stuff to try and avoid Mary-Sueness, but undoubtably I will have some. It's difficult to write believable characters. =\**

**Amazingly awesome person - Yeah, it seems that's a common trait for all my female characters. I think some in my other Warriors fics were like that...in Salvation or whatever. -forgot- **

**Anyway, onto the story~!**

* * *

The storm continued well into the next few days, bringing with it icy sheets of rain and buffeting wind that made Twist incredibly irritable and miserable—not a good combination for Declan, who seemed to rather unnaturally enjoy the whole thing.

"It's refreshing," he had insisted. "Nice and cold. Wet. It's great!"

Twist had decided he was properly insane.

The Sliders seemed to share her opinion on the storm, hiding out underneath their box-nests or sheltering in the overhanging edge of the pipe. The Warren was full of hiding eyes, glowing green and blue and gold from the shadows.

That thought did not help Twist settle.

Lucky had been more evasive of her, probably because of their last confrontation. Twist wondered at his strange behavior, as much as she wondered at his odd pelt and dark eyes, but didn't know what to do about it. The leader of the Sliders was a prestigious cat, everyone seemed to say, but she was still afraid of him.

Wisp, however, was another matter.

A young tom had showed up at her den a few days ago, bright-eyed and with a large brown spot in the middle of his white forehead. "Hello, Twist!" he purred, tail curling over his back. "Wisp wants to see you."

Twist groaned and rolled over. "Max, it's too early for this. Go away, please."

But Max just purred louder, coming over to trounce around on her tail. "Get up, get up! Wisp wants to see you!"

Finally, Twist got up, irritably and growling, with Max bouncing in circles around her, before they both headed over to Wisp's.

Max had been coming to get her every day since she'd met Wisp. He was a bright young cat, a little naïve, but bright all the same. He was related somehow to Wisp, she knew—and it was obvious by their close relationship—but she didn't know exactly how until one day, she'd just asked him.

"She picked me out of my litter," he explained, walking on top of a line of box-nests, nimble and light as a bird. "I was the youngest and the weakest. I've got bad lungs, you know, from a fire when I was first born. My mother was going to abandon me because I was slowing down the rest of my brothers and Wisp just showed up one day." He put on a gravelly voice then to impersonate Wisp. "'I want that kit, the little white one. Don't argue with me, young'un, because I know you can't care for him. You detest him, don't you? You hate his weakness.'"

Twist was repulsed. "And you loved Wisp for it?"

Max shrugged. "She got me away from a mother that would have killed me. Of course I love her."

"By insulting you!"

"By saving me. And nothing you say's going to change my mind about it." He lifted his chin. "Go ahead and try if you want!"

But Twist hadn't tried. She didn't want to try to come between Wisp and such a fragile young tom.

"Ah, hello, my dears." Wisp was on the outcropping of her box-den, sunning herself in the weak and temporary light. "I'm so glad you came to visit me today."

Max went right up to her and licked her cheek, pressing his nose between her ears and purring loudly. "Good morning, Wisp!"

Wisp winced. "Not so loud so early in the morning, Max. I'm far too tired for it today." Her yellow eyes alighted on Twist. "Good morning."

Fighting back the unease she felt every time she was in this she-cat's presence, Twist bent her head.

"Alright, Max, alright." Wisp pushed away the little tom, who was keen on washing Wisp's pelt for her. "That's enough. Go on, now, and do your chores for the morning. I'll see to you when you get back."

"Okay," he said, eagerly. "Bye, Wisp! Bye, Twist!" And then he darted away just as quickly as he'd come, tail swishing happily behind him.

Once he'd gone, Wisp heaved herself to her paws. "Today, I want to teach you about the Sliders."

"Why do you think I'd want to learn?" Twist asked petulantly, looking away, her tail flicking.

"Because, my dear, you are deeply, deeply curious." Wisp's bright eyes fixed on her, and Twist got the now familiar sensation that the old she-cat was looking straight through her.

It was useless to try and say otherwise. "I just want to know where you came from, really. You're really secretive, especially around those who you claim to love."

"The Sliders? I do love them. Like my own kits. I never could have kits, you know, dear, and it really disappointed me."

"I'm sorry," Twist said.

Wisp shrugged, eyes glinting mischievously. "It probably has something to do with the fact that I never found a good tom. A good tom is so hard to find, don't you think, Twist?"

Twist ignored that. "So you adopted all the Sliders? Lucky, too?"

"Lucky's story isn't mine to tell," Wisp said, with a vague flip of her tail.

"But you know it."

"Of course," she said blithely. "I am the one to know, aren't I? I know everyone's story because everyone confides in me."

"And because you lord that fact over them," Twist spat. "You love to learn their secrets so you can pretend you're better than all of us."

Wisp looked over at her indulgently. "You are very smart, Twist."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Because you don't trust me."

"I don't," Twist agreed.

"But why?" Wisp asked, her voice edging toward a mocking whine. "Why don't you? Is it because my motherly charms have no effect on you? You should see them spill their guts to me, Twist—all their deepest, darkest secrets. They tell me everything. Everything they wouldn't tell another cat ever. Not even their mates. But they tell me. And you know why, Twist?"

"Why?" Twist asked dully, half because she wanted to show Wisp how deceitful she was being and half because she was genuinely curious.

Leaning forward with quivering whiskers, Wisp said, "Because they are weak."

Twist bridled. "And you take pride in that fact?"

"Of course," Wisp said dismissively. "Why wouldn't I? I, who have the trust of every Slider here. I who could break a cat with a few choice words."

"And everyone trusts you despite that fact?" Twist challenged. "Everyone trusts you even when you speak like this?"

"Well, I don't speak like this. I'm never this candid."

"Then why are you now?"

Wisp looked at her then, hard, with those yellow eyes. "I don't know," she admitted finally, getting to her paws with barely a stumble—her wound was nearly healed—and turning away to face the incoming storm clouds. "I'm really not sure. I mean, you are a very smart cat—I saw that instantly—but you are so very complex, Twist. I'm aching to know why you're so afraid of shadows." She turned to Twist then, her eyes gleaming. "And I do wish that one day you would tell me."

Twist just scoffed and looked away. "Why would I ever do that?" she demanded. "Especially after what you just told me. You basically told me how untrustworthy you are and now you're asking for my secrets?"

"Of course I'd be willing to trade," Wisp said quickly. "If you're in."

Twist flicked her ears. "Trade what, exactly?"

Wisp lowered her head, yellow eyes glowing like live coals, and said, "Lucky."

Twist just stared at her. "Lucky?"

"Yes, he's a handsome cat, don't you think? And he's looking for a mate."

Twist actually laughed out loud. "No thanks."

Tilting her head, Wisp looked surprised. "So quickly," she said, blowing out a breath quickly. "I didn't think you'd say it so quickly."

"I don't even know Lucky."

"He's a powerful cat. I bet he'd had powerful kits, too. He's a charming young one, young and strong. If I was a little younger…" She trailed off with a rusty purr.

Looking down at her in disgust, Twist got to her paws. "No thanks," she repeated. "I'm going now, if you don't mind."

Wisp looked a little disappointed. "Why? Stay and chat awhile."

"No. I have to go. I have duties to finish."

"Yes, your month is ending soon, isn't it?"

"Soon. A few more days yet."

"I bet I can shorten it," Wisp said, swiping her tongue over a paw and beginning to wash her ears.

She was dangling the mouse in front of her nose, Twist realized. "No. I don't want your help."

"Oh?" Wisp didn't sound quite surprised, but interested. "And why's that? Because you like it here?"

"Hardly," Twist scoffed. "I just—" _I just have nowhere else to go, _she finished silently, feeling a wash of icy realization.

Wisp was purring again, but before Twist could demand why, there was a flash of golden fur and Audrey was there.

"Wisp," she gasped out, her fur a mess and her eyes wild. "Wisp, come quickly!"

Immediately, the amusement in Wisp's expression vanished, replaced by a sharp concern that almost frightened Twist with its intensity. "What happened?" she demanded. "Where's Lucky?"

"It's…it's not Lucky." Audrey was having a hard time catching her breath. "It's…Max."

"Max! What's wrong with him?"

Sucking in a deep breath that sounded almost painful, Audrey turned worried amber eyes on Wisp and rasped, "Rogues."

_Rogues_. Twist felt a shiver of unease.

Wisp was all business now. "How long ago was he taken?"

"Not long. This morning at most."

"Anyone else? Have they sent word?"

"Yes. The messenger was the normal one—black tom with the white nose. He said we needed to trade for him." Audrey sounded completely distraught. "Wisp, what are we going to _do?"_

"Have you told Lucky yet?"

"Snit did. We only just saw him."

"Alright." Wisp was nodding now, her voice level and calm but Twist could see her fur bristling. "Alright. Twist, you're with me. We're going to get that kit back."

Twist blinked. "I'm not allowed to leave the Warren," she said, confused. "Lucky said—"

"Lucky can deal with me," Wisp said darkly. "Now come. Audrey, get Viktor or River or Gravel. All three if you can. Then send one of the younger ones to tell Lucky that we've gone. Tell him Twist came with me. Twist and I will go ahead first; tell the others to meet me by the edge of the fence. Well?" she snapped when Audrey hesitated. "What are you waiting for? _Go!_"

Audrey turned tail that instant.

Wisp limped down the path to beneath the belly of the pipe, her yellow eyes flinty.

"Wisp, what's going on?" Twist had to hurry to keep up with the older she-cat. "What did Audrey mean? What's going to happen to Max?"

"You see, Twist, this is what I was talking about." Wisp hung a hard corner around the edge of a box-nest, hurrying into the open and toward the gate. "I know all the secrets of the Sliders, but I also know them all. I have to be the one to protect them. All of them. Max included. And you, too, no matter what you think of me. It's my duty as their mother. I have to do this. So that means I'm the first one out in the field when this happens."

Flint was sentry again. He leapt to his paws when they ran up to him, his ears pricked. "Wisp! What—?"

"Not right now, Flint." Wisp brushed harshly by him. "What direction did Max go?"

"Max?" Flint frowned. "He went into the woods a long time ago. That way." He flicked his tail toward where Twist had seen the oak tree's leaves. "He said he wanted to try and bring you back something for dinner."

"Idiot!" she spat, with surprising venom. "And you let him go by himself? He's your brother!"

"I don't watch him all the time," Flint protested. "And he's old enough to go by himself. He's practically full-grown. If he's gone missing, then—"

"Not missing, you moron, captured!" Wisp was stalking in circles now, tight and agitated. "They've got him—the rogues! They already sent a warning."

At once, Flint's eyes grew so wide Twist could see the white all the way around the green. "What?" he asked, his voice an awful gasp. "He's… No, no, that's not right. It can't be."

"It is! You think I would make this up?" Wisp growled sharply. "Now get off your useless tail and help me find him. Put that nose to the ground and sniff him out." She wheeled on Twist, who couldn't help taking a step back. "And you! You, too! Get to work, both of you."

Audrey came running up behind them, Viktor, the red tom River, and Gravel behind her. Snit curved around from the side, bringing Lucky behind him.

"Wisp," Lucky greeted, calm and in control, those dark eyes serene. "What is this about?"

"Max is captured."

Lucky's shock registered as a single flash of his dark eyes. "My," he breathed. "That is unfortunate. We must be off at once. Flint, you—"

"I already told him he could come," Wisp cut him off. "Another cat can stand sentry."

"Very well. Twist, you can—"

"Not her. She's with me."

Now looking faintly annoyed, Lucky asked, "Well, who do you wish to stand sentry, Wisp?"

"I couldn't care less, Lucky," she growled. "No one, for all I care. Let's get going already!"

"Agreed," Lucky said, stepping back to the edge of the gate. "Please, lead the way, Flint. I will await your return eagerly."

Flint nodded curtly, darting away in front toward the woods, where the red-gold leaves flooded the floor in a crunchy and strongly-scented path. Twist looked over her shoulder to see the pale tom watching her, his head lowered, allowing shadows to sweep along his sharply-angled face. He nodded to her, but she turned away quickly, feeling her pelt bristle as the cool shade of the forest flooded over her back.

Twist fell in beside Audrey. "Where are we going?" she whispered.

The golden she-cat looked concerned. "To the rogues' camp," she explained. "They do this every so often—steal a young cat from the Sliders and then try to get Lucky to come but he never does."

"Why?"

Audrey looked uneasy. "The rogues hate Lucky. They think that he stole land from them or something a long time ago. They've always been dying to kill him."

"And no one mentioned this to me by now?" she asked sarcastically. "I guess a bunch of cutthroat crazy cats thirsting for the leader's blood is just commonplace now, huh?"

Snit, running on Audrey's other side, put in snidely, "Oh, yes. We always tell our group's darkest secrets to our prisoners. What do you think, genius?"

Twist narrowed her eyes at him but understood what he meant. "How often does this happen? Once or twice?"

"It's random. Every time it's a different cat. Usually young, most of the time male, but I mean, that's just because we're low on she-cats. They try the same thing and we always have to go in and try and save them."

"Try?" Twist echoed. "Try, as in, you don't always get the cat back?"

Audrey bit her lip but said nothing.

They ran in silence for the rest of the trip. Only when Flint stopped suddenly, nearly making River trip over his drooped tail.

"Idiot," he said gruffly, shaking his thick pelt. "What did you do that for?"

Flint's yellow eyes were wide and frightened. "Max," he whimpered.

Peering around his shoulder, Twist sucked in an astonished breath.

Max was lying in the clearing ahead, his white pelt scarlet and matted from dried blood. One eye was pressed shut, and a line of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. His ears were tattered and his pelt was missing a few patches of fur, through which gleamed pink and irritated skin.

Flint started forward. "I'll kill him," he growled. "I'll kill the rogue for this."

"No." Wisp touched his shoulder gently with her tail. "No. You can't. Look."

Twist followed where the older she-cat gestured and saw it; three dark cats, all half-hidden from view in clumps of piled leaves or in the shadows from the trees. They all had the markings of battles, torn ears and ripped fur, and they were all trained on the young cat lying prone in the middle of their positions.

"So what do we do?" Gravel whispered.

"We might not have to do anything. He might already be dead," Viktor said bluntly.

Flint turned on him, nostrils flared. "Don't say that," he hissed. "He is _not _dead!"

"Shut up!" Wisp growled. "You'll alert them."

"Let them hear me!" Flint said, his voice defiantly loud. "Let them! I'll tear them to pieces!"

"Gravel, take him away. He's obviously trying to get us all killed." Wisp watched as the gray tom struggled with Flint, pushing him back with the help of River. Viktor watched him sympathetically with his one eye, tail swishing.

Wisp had never looked away from Max. "We're in luck; he's alive. But only just. We need to move quickly."

Snit squinted toward the clearing. "I see three of them," he said softly. "And there are five of us."

"I can't fight," Wisp said tautly. "Four."

"So," Snit continued, "that's a good chance. Me and Viktor can sweep around to get the back two, Audrey can get the last, and Twist can go for Max."

"Hey," Twist protested. "I can fight."

"We don't know that and we don't have time to waste," Snit said bluntly.

"Sorry, Twist," Viktor whispered. "Just go with it."

Wisp curled her legs beneath her. "Good plan, Snit. Now, we just need to wait."

"Wait for what?" he demanded. "He's bleeding out there! He could die!"

Audrey looked thoughtful. "Wisp, if we continue this, we're risking the chance of—"

There was a sudden crashing sound behind them, shaking the bush they were hiding under. As small brown leaves fluttered down around them, Twist whipped her head around just in time to see a flash of black-and-gray striped fur fly by, shrieking. The three toms looked up at once, their eyes honing in right on the tom running straight for his brother in the center, blind to everything else.

"Flint, _no!"_ Gravel hissed, running after him and swiping out a paw to catch him, but the other tom was too quick.

"Wait for that," Wisp finished dryly. "Go now!"

Twist didn't have to be told twice; one of the toms had reached Flint. He reared up on his hind legs, claws unsheathed and glinting, and slammed down on Flint's back. Flint screeched, flipping onto his back to rake his claws down the other cat's belly.

Twist ran for Max like the planned called for, but was beaten there by Viktor. "What happened to following the plan?" she gasped.

He looked grim as he took Max up by the scruff. "I lied. Go fight."

Twist stared at him for a moment longer before spinning around and leaping onto the back of another rogue. His pelt stank of leaf-rot as she worried his ears with her teeth, aiming for all the places she knew would hurt the most. That was one of the better things she'd learned growing up with the gang: she knew how to fight dirty.

He yowled, reached back with a paw to drag her from his back, stepping onto her belly with one paw and sinking his fangs into the loose fur of her throat. He choked her and she gagged, lashing out wildly with her paws but her blows didn't connect. Eyes darting over to the pile of leaves he'd jumped out of, Twist swiped out with a paw, digging her claws into the dirt and leaf mixture, then whipped it right into his face.

The tom shrieked, falling back at once to claw at his eyes. She could see the grit caking all around his nose and mouth, choking him as well as blinding him.

She shoved forward, hitting him straight in the chest, then slammed her paws into his chest again when he hit the ground. Breath wheezing out of his lungs strong and foul, he writhed on the ground, out of breath and unable to fight back. Twist stepped around him to find another cat to fight.

River and Flint had turned on the original tom, one holding and the other slicing. Audrey was supporting Snit as he chased after a fleeing rogue, this one smaller and obviously younger than the other two. Gravel was nowhere to be seen.

With one final hiss of fury and pain, the rogue squirmed out from under Flint's avenging claws and fled, his companion staggering along after him, blinking rapidly as the dirt clogged his eyes. They disappeared with a shiver of ferns.

"Max," Flint rasped. He was limping heavily on one paw and his shoulder was missing several clumps of fur. "Max. Where's my brother?"

"Viktor got him." River spat out a mouthful of blood onto the ground, coughing heavily. "I saw him and Gravel take him to safety."

Flint wilted with relief, sagging onto the ground; River stepped back quickly in surprise. "Is he okay?" he asked weakly. "Max. He's alright, isn't he?"

"He'll live." The gruff voice came from Wisp, who limped into the battlefield. She surveyed the blood-spattered ground and tufts of loose fur with remarkable disinterest.

"Where is he now?" Flint sprang back to his paws and approached Wisp quickly, eagerly. "Can I go see him now?"

"Yes, he will be surprised by your sudden brotherly interest." Wisp's voice was dry. "Let's get back to the Warren. Gravel's injured."

"Badly?" Audrey asked, padding up quickly. "Just an ear, I hope, or maybe a few scratches?"

"Why do you care?" Snit demanded hotly.

Audrey turned to him quickly, blinking. "He's my friend, of course!"

"Your friend! You barely talk to him!"

"I'd love to listen to this chatter, but we've got a very injured young cat on our paws." Wisp's sudden fervor had ceased, and she'd lapsed back into her detached aloofness. "Back to camp now, if that's alright with you, Snit."

Snit flattened his ears quickly, his tail lashing. "Of course, Wisp," he said, a hint of irritation in his raspy voice.

She nodded. "Then let's go."

Lucky was waiting for them when they returned, placidly as usual. "Max has been stabilized. He will be fine, aside from some simply scarring. Flint, you can go and see him. He has been asking for you."

Flint left that instant.

Lucky watched him go before adding, "Gravel will need some more time to heal. He is not as young as he used to be. But, in time, his wounds will heal. You did well today, all of you. I am proud to call you Sliders. Please, go back to your nests, greet your friends and family, and rest up. Tomorrow, we will celebrate your achievements." When they started to leave, Lucky said, "Wisp, a word."

"Now?" she growled.

"Now," he repeated, calmly. Then his eyes alighted on Twist. "You did well," he said softly. "I am also proud of you." He turned, nodded to Wisp, and the two of them walked back into the Warren.

The gates were empty then, sentry-less now that Flint was with his brother, and the woods behind her were totally open and free. She would just have to turn around and start walking and the Sliders would never be able to catch her.

This was her chance—probably her only chance—to escape while she could. She could go right now and never look back.

Looking up at the high wooden fence of the Warren, she sighed softly, knowing both what lay inside the borders and outside, then slowly padded to the gates and slipped inside.

* * *

**Woo! Action in this one! Huzzah!**

**On the plus side-for me more than you, I suppose-I got a new laptop. Lappy finally crapped out and its screen got broken (not by me, btw, and if it was by me, hypothetically of course, then I totally didn't mean it) so my daddy bought me a new one. :3 And it has this really cool sticky-note thing that I can stick notes all over my desktop with. It's good for me, since I can't even remember what I ate for breakfast these days (if I ate breakfast at all, anyway: I don't believe that most-important-meal-of-the-day crap The Man tells us).**

**Man, that was a long AN. Anyway...**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	10. Chapter 10

**Happy New Year, all! Let's make this the writingest year yet, shall we? XD**

**Sky Fireheart - Kaaay~! XD**

**A fallen tree - This wasn't very fast... Sorry. :P**

**LegendaryHero - Wait, what's APUSH? Is that like Health? -doesn't know- And I looooove false impressions~!**

**Amazingly awesome person - Well, you do sound very excited. XD**

**The Last Sketch - Hee~ Shipping, shipping~**

**Kitro Kat - I'm glad you think so~! ^.^**

**Crowstorm - Whoa. You have a really cool penname. -stands in awe-**

**Onto the story~!**

* * *

"This has gone too far, Lucky," River growled, pacing back and forth in the small, circular leader's den. "We can't allow him to get away with this again."

"Your anger is blinding you, River." Lucky was sitting calmly in the center of the light that had been thrown on the ground. He put his head to one side, dark eyes speculative. "We cannot go rushing after this one. He is too clever for that."

"You're plenty clever too," River spat. "And yet here we sit, doing nothing. What are you going to say to Max when he wakes up and is missing a chunk of his ear? You're going to tell him that you were too weak and cowardly to fight the Rogue?"

"The Rogue?" Twist, who had been flattened into the corner of the den by the sheer number of cats, whispered to Audrey beside her.

But it was Snit on her other side who answered. "We don't know his name. The Rogue's the one who took Max, and all the others who've gotten kidnapped." He curled his lips back from his teeth. "Max was lucky to come back alive."

"I have already explained my position on the Rogue," Lucky said patiently.

"To save your own skin!" River accused. He unsheathed his claws and sank them into the hard ground. "Any other cat would already have a hunting party up and ready to go! But you're just sitting here, waiting for what? For nothing. Another excuse for us to hide in this trash-heap like frightened kits."

"River has a point, Lucky." Now Gravel spoke up, in his deep rusty voice. "We can't allow this to continue. Max is the third this moon, and Ruby and Kaltag never came back."

"I understand that. But there is no reason to attack now. He will be expecting it."

River scoffed, rolling his bright yellow eyes. "Expecting it! He would just as soon expect stones to fall from the sky and hedgehogs to grow wings! Not once in all the seasons of his antagonizing us have you ever so much as twitched your whiskers at him!"

"Watch it, River," Viktor growled from the corner.

"I will not watch it. If he doesn't act quickly, I will." River narrowed his eyes, a low growl in his throat. "And you won't be able to stop me."

Lucky remained poised, even though Twist saw a flash of white-hot anger in his eyes.

"Enough." Wisp uncurled herself from Lucky's side, limping over to River. She watched him with impassive eyes for a moment, then said, "You may go, River."

River's eyes widened. "You're giving me permission?"

"Permission to leave. Please excuse yourself from this den before I find a cat who will make you." She turned from him, ignoring his look of incredulity, to Lucky. "But he is right, Lucky. We can't allow this to stand. We have to fight back."

Lucky turned his eyes to the light streaming in from the hole above. "Wisp—"

"Don't. We have no choice now. They think us weak."

"We're showing weakness," River hissed furiously. "If we were half the pack we could be, this would have never happened."

"If you are questioning my leadership, friend, I would kindly advise you to find another group to fall in with. Anyway," he said silkily, ignoring River and Gravel's shared look of annoyance, "how is young Max?"

"One of his ears had to be partially removed." Surprisingly, Snit spoke up now. "He has minor bruising along both flanks and a long slash down his side, but he is stable. It'll take him a few moons to be fully recovered."

Audrey looked at Snit curiously, then added, "He's in capable paws. Snit and the others will watch over him."

"And you as well, Audrey. You are his witness, after all."

Audrey nodded, her dark amber eyes soft.

Twist blinked. This discussion had taken such an abrupt turn, and by some kind of unconscious marker, the cats simply parted, though not without a few glares. River in particular shot a nasty one to Wisp, who calmly licked her paw and began to wash her ears.

"Come on now, Twist," Audrey whispered. "We have to leave now."

"Wait," Wisp said, freezing in mid-lick. "I'd like to speak with her."

"Later," Lucky said.

Wisp blinked at him in surprise. "But—"

"Later, Wisp," he said rather roughly. "You three are excused. I will see you in the morning."

Twist looked at him in shock but he didn't seem to notice. He had turned to Wisp again and was saying some in an agitated voice, to which she replied in a low murmur, her yellow eyes darting between Twist and the other two cats.

"Wisp is a very strange cat," Twist said cautiously as they walked out of Lucky's den and to the box-place. Her paws felt heavy as stones, and her throat ached from screeching defiance at the rogues.

Audrey just shrugged. "She always has been. I remember when I was a kit, she acted sweet as mint leaves to me. As soon as I grew up, she grew colder and more distant until finally we never spoke at all."

"She's cruel," Snit put in.

"She's not," Audrey argued gently. "She's just…odd. Wisp will be Wisp."

"No other cat plays with others like that. She's mean-spirited."

Twist couldn't help but agree with him. "But she always changes like that?"

"Something's wrong in her brain," Snit said gruffly, weaving under a particularly low spot of the metal pipe. "She's messed up. I can't imagine what kind of kithood she had—you know, a few dozen seasons ago."

Audrey frowned. "Stop it, Snit."

He shrugged, looking faintly amused, but silenced himself. "I have to get back to Max anyway." He looked over at Audrey. "You're coming with me?"

"Yes. Twist, you'll be okay to walk home?"

"It's not that far. And I'm sure Declan will be waiting for me."

Audrey tipped her head back to examine the night sky. "It's a little late for him to be awake, isn't it?"

Twist nodded, twisting her mouth. "But that doesn't mean he won't be. I know it."

"He's a sweet tom," Audrey said, flicking her tail. "Very cheerful. And very handsome, too, don't you think, Twist?"

Twist chuckled a little. "Declan?"

"Oh yeah. That lovely fur of his. I'd love to feel how soft it is." She let out a dreamy sigh. "I wish all toms were like him, all thoughtful and caring."

"Plenty of toms are like that," Snit said, his voice sounding offended.

"Not many. And not any I know."

"Well, not all of us like to be sickeningly sweet and mushy all the time," he spat.

Audrey laughed. "You should be. It would be easier to find a mate if you were nicer, Snit."

That stopped him. Flattening his ears, he growled low in his throat and took off ahead.

"Hey!" she called after him. "Pfft! What's gotten into him? Anyway, I have to go. See you tomorrow, Twist!"

"Bye!" Twist called after her but Audrey was already far ahead. Shaking her head, she dipped her way through the tunnels and found her way back to the box-nest.

Predictably, Declan was already there, but he wasn't awake. His tail was draped all across the floor of the den, ragged and red as fire in the half-light, and his eyes were closed. Snores softly rose out of his throat as Twist stepped over him to her corner of the den and curled into a ball. She didn't want to wake him when he seemed to be sleeping so peacefully, but his eyes blinked open as she settled herself.

"What took you so long?" he demanded, seeming wide awake and alert now. He leapt to his paws and dashed over to her, falling onto his belly and licking the wounds that laced her shoulder. "You shouldn't have gone with them," he scolded between licks. "I was worried sick about you."

"About me?" she asked, surprised.

"Of course about you! I don't know what kind of fighter you are. What if you'd been killed? Or worse, had your ears bit off or your fur shredded?"

"Uh, how exactly is that worse?" she asked dryly, but he ignored her.

"What were you thinking? You thought you could just go along and fight with them? You could have died! You don't know these cats! They could have turned on you in a blink of an eye and then I'd—" He cut off, said something quickly under his breath, and continued: "The point is, you need to be a little more careful. Okay?"

"O-okay." She was startled by his sudden outburst. "Okay. I'm…sorry. To have upset you. I didn't mean to."

"Why did you go with them?" he wheedled. "Why couldn't you have just come back and left well enough alone?"

"Because!" she hissed. "Because it was what was right! I was given the choice to help someone out and I took it. Because of our quick actions, Max's life was saved."

"Poor little thing. I saw his ear."

Twist flinched at the very thought of it. "Lucky has refused to take action against the rogues who attacked us. Apparently, this has happened before."

"I heard." His voice was grim. "I went to visit Kite and the other queen, Karina or something, and they told me all about it. This has been happening since the beginning of the Sliders. The rogues come randomly to take young cats who've strayed too far from the Warren." He frowned. "Max is apparently lucky to have gotten away so easily."

"Easily. Poor kit will be scarred for life. Not to mention terrified to leave the Warren. Once something like this happens, it's hard to undo."

"Like what happened to you?" he asked innocently.

"Right, that kind of thing—" She stopped immediately, aware of what she'd just said. "This has nothing to do with me," she said quickly.

"Twist, when are you going to tell me what happened to you?" he sighed. "You know we're friends now. We've been friends for a long time. You can trust me."

"We are friends," she acquiesced, surprised to realize that the words were true. "But there are some secrets that I can't ever tell anyone. Not because I don't trust you or like you, but because I _can't. _Do you understand, Declan?"

He blinked. "Wow."

Feeling self-conscious, she demanded, "What?"

"I dunno. It's just…I've never heard you be so honest before. It's nice."

"I'm always honest!" she spat.

"But not like that. Not kindly honest. More like brutally honest."

She scoffed and turned her face away. "Whatever." Her fur was bristling with discomfort. "I just want to be as honest as you, I suppose."

He laughed. "Are you being sarcastic?"

"No." Her pelt flushed. "You're always so honest. It makes cats like you." _It made Audrey like you, _she thought, growling inwardly for some reason.

He put his head to one side. "Cats like me? Here?"

She backtracked quickly. "I didn't say that. I'm just saying…in general…"

Chuckling, he shook his head. "You're far too interesting, Twist. Just when I think I've got you all figured out, you've got to go change on me." He said his goodnights and curled into a ball, whisking his tail over his nose.

Twist stared down at him wordlessly for a moment, then laid down and tucked her paws beneath her chest, scooting up so that her back was pressed against his; she could already feel the warmth of his pelt against hers. _Really, Declan, _she thought, squeezing her eyes closed tightly. _You don't have me figured out at all._

* * *

Her dreams that night were a turbulent rush of color and sound. She dreamed she was back up in the mountains with the gang, but all the color was leached away, leaving the pelts of her former gangmates as gray as the mountains behind them. Only their eyes shone, like lights in the darkness, turning on her and making her pelt glow with their sickly harsh color. Stripes's yellow eyes gleamed through the rolling fog like twin flames, malicious with ill-intent, and when he opened his mouth, instead of words, flowed a stream of high-pitched shrieking that jolted her out of her sleep like a shock of lightning.

Twist flung herself awake, gasping.

Declan, who'd been lying on his back with his fluffy belly exposed to the cool morning air, shot into a sitting position. "What? What? What's wrong?" The long fur of his face was squished on one side, flattening his whiskers.

Heaving in great gulps of air, Twist threw out a paw to hoist herself onto her side. Her pelt felt hot and flushed all over, and there was a curious sensation of someone watching her. Someone besides the one in front of her with wide, concerned green eyes.

"Are you okay?" Declan asked worriedly.

She stared up at him, trying to catch her breath, then laughed.

He frowned, making his whiskers look even more ridiculous. "What's so funny?"

Reaching up with one paw, she brushed his face fur flat. "You look stupid," she pointed out, unable to keep from laughing.

He scoffed. "I do not. And my whiskers are perfectly fine, thank you. Yours, on the other paw, are looking a little stupid."

"Are not!"

"Not now," he admitted, lowering his eyes deviously. Suddenly, he struck out with both paws and brushed her fur forward, against the grain. He continued his ruffling while Twist squirmed away, laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

"Stop! Stop!"

"Not until I fix your fur," he said cheerfully. "Come back here and let me fix your stupid face!"

"Not as stupid as your face." She rolled over onto her back as he lunged forward, battering at his belly with her hindpaws. He grunted as she got him right in the gut, but continued his pestering, poking at her face with the tips of his paws.

She reached up and grabbed him by the loose fur of his shoulder, throwing him down on the ground and pouncing on top of him. "Ha!" she mewed triumphantly. "Gotcha."

Declan, who had collapsed on the ground in an overly morose way, looked up at her. "So you have," he admitted with a lofty sniff. "But you should see your fur now. You look like you went three rounds with a briar patch!"

She growled. "Not true!"

"Totally true. You should see." He motioned to the side with one paw, curling the other against his chest.

She narrowed her eyes down at him. "Nice try. There's nothing over there but the box. You're trying to trick me."

"I wouldn't trick you. You're the tricker. I mean, look at you now. Playing. Bet you've never done that before."

"Playing?" she echoed. So it was, she realized. She hadn't played since she was a kit. No wonder she felt so light and—she almost was surprised to think it—happy. It had been a long time since she'd been so happy, so excited to wake up every morning with things to do. Without her even knowing it, she'd been enjoying living with the Sliders, despite their many mysterious habits and their strange leader. It was…fun.

Declan took advantage of her distraction and lashed out his tail, knocking her to her side. Putting one paw on her back and the other pinning her forepaws, he leaned down and mewed cheerfully, "Gotcha."

She squirmed, but couldn't free herself. "Let me go!"

"Not until you say that I win!"

"You didn't! I…it was a tie, okay?"

"A tie!" he repeated, scoffing. "Yeah right. I won this one and you know it."

"I only know that if you don't let me up in the next heartbeat—"

"You'll what?" Declan laughed, prodding her in the side. "You'll what?"

"Uh, excuse me."

Twist glanced up at the new voice, looking through Declan's front legs. It was a young black-and-white tom, watching them nervously.

"I didn't mean to…interrupt," he said, wincing slightly.

Suddenly, Twist felt embarrassed. Who knew what the little cat was thinking, seeing her and Declan in such a strange position. She pushed Declan off of her, and walked over to him, acting as if nothing had happened. "What's going on?"

"I was sent…with a message." The cat's eyes kept wandering to Declan standing behind Twist.

"Hey, hey. Right here, little guy." Twist stamped her paw to get his attention. "What's the message?"

"Um…River wanted to speak to you. He told me that I wasn't supposed to tell anyone else…" He gulped. "Am I going to be punished by Lucky?"

Twist sighed heavily. "What's your name?"

"Marco."

"Well, Marco, don't worry. I won't tell Lucky on you."

He dipped his head, letting out a shaky breath of relief. "Thank you."

"But you have to tell me what River wants." Twist didn't want to go running blindly into a situation that could prove disastrous for hers and Declan's standing in the Sliders—they had trust now, and she didn't want to lose that.

Marco's eyes darted to the corner of the box-nest. "They want to…do something. About Max. How he was attacked, you know? He wants to go after the Rogue." He raised pleading blue eyes to her. "Please change his mind. I don't want anyone getting hurt. Especially not by the Rogue. He's bad, Twist! Bad!"

"Calm down." Declan swooped forward now, curling his tail around the young tom's shoulders. "There's nothing to be worried about. We aren't going to let another cat get hurt if we can help it. Okay?"

Marco nodded. "Okay."

"Good. Now go on back to your duties." Declan kept his voice light but Twist could tell he was thinking hard about something. As soon as Marco was out of earshot, he turned to her and said, "River's about to do something very stupid."

"Stupid!" she echoed. "Like getting revenge on the cat that nearly killed his gangmate?"

"He's going against Lucky. That's not good. And he's trying to drag us into it, which is also not good."

"He isn't trying to drag you into it," she mewed. "Just me."

"If he's trying to drag you into it, he's dragging me into it." Before Twist could respond to that, Declan added thoughtfully, "We need to do something."

"Like what?" she asked, disgruntled. "We can't go after the Rogue. We don't know what he looks like."

"We have to tell Lucky what River is planning."

"No," she said immediately. "We can't do that."

"He's going to get himself killed," Declan said, sounding almost angry about it.

"Whatever River decides to do is his own fault. We can't be poking our noses into it." She turned away. "Just forget about it. I won't go to River, alright?"

"You promise?" he asked. "I don't want you to be in danger."

She scoffed. "As if I would willingly put myself in danger."

"Just don't do it. Please, Twist. For me." His eyes were wide and pleading. "You're all I've got left. I don't want anything to happen to you. So please, think this through. And don't go with River."

Narrowing her eyes, she glared at the ground.

"Promise!" he said urgently.

"Alright," she snapped. "Alright, I promise."

"Swear it."

"What's the difference?" she asked petulantly.

"Swear it!"

"Fine. Look here." She stepped into the middle of the den, lifting her head and looking him right in the eyes. "I swear that I won't go with River to kill the Rogue. No matter what happens, you will not find me outside the walls of the Warren. Okay? Good enough?"

* * *

River's eyes widened as she approached, walking quickly out the gates of the Warren and into the forest. "You actually came." He sounded stunned. Behind him, Gravel, Flint, and several other cats she couldn't identify through the gloom paced restlessly.

Twist glowered back at the walls of the trash-place. "As much as I hate it, I can't walk away and let the Rogue get away with what he did to Max." She took a deep breath, nodding to him. "Lead the way. Let's do this."

* * *

**Ba baaaaaa!**

**I've been listening to Death Cab for Cutie's "I'll Follow You Into the Dark" on repeat for pretty much the past three days. Is that not the most amazingly, beautiful, depressing song in the entire world? No wonder I love it. XD**

**Aaaaanyway, hope you enjoooyed~**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	11. Chapter 11

**Mm, it's been awhile, huh? Sorry, school just started up again and stuff, and my new schedule is all agjdswksfjds. You know how it is. Maybe. XD**

**Crowstorm - Hee~ Loophole, I assume. You'll see more soooon~**

**LegendaryHero - Ooooooh. History. Bleh. Haaaa, I really did use to be able to do more than one in a day! It's true! Look at Shattered or Salvation! ...Actually, I don't think you can see when I posted them at, can you? XD BUT I SWEAR IT'S TRUE. But that is when I was in high school...everything was easier when I was in high school. Now I'm like a capital A Adult with capital R Responsibilities. D:**

**Amazingly awesome person - Hee~! Here's an update, then! :D**

**Kitro Kat - Happy New Year to you, too! My resolution for the new year is to talk to more people. I usually tend to just sit in the front of my classes with my nose in a book, but I'm gonna try harder to not be such an introvert! XD**

**Now onto the story~**

* * *

River's red pelt rippled as he walked, a brighter red than Declan's dusty pelt but not as silky or thick. At his side prowled Gravel, whose eyes kept shooting around the forest, peering into the darkness as if he expected rogues to leap out of the bushes at any heartbeat. Even Flint, who had barely healed, was there, jaw set and eyes burning with a light Twist recognized easily as vengeance—she'd seen it enough in Stripes's yellow eyes to see it now.

River had introduced her to the other two cats he'd gotten to come with him—a battered and ragged-pelted black tom named Beck and a hard-eyed wiry she-cat called Lightfoot.

At first mention of her name, Twist had been surprised—and a little scared. Lightfoot had the name of a Clan cat like the ones who'd put down the gang a moon earlier, but Lightfoot didn't seem to have any traits of those warriors. She was silent and cold, her anger much more directed and controlled than Flint's, which sped his paws and strengthened his muscles. At the first burst of sound, Lightfoot had reacted so quickly and viciously that even the other cats in the little group had been uneasy.

Beck was small and light-framed, his black pelt smooth and unmarked, but Lightfoot was something else entirely. From the peak of her neat, triangular face, black fur drew a dark line, across her back and down her sides like a shadow, all the way to the tip of her tail. The fur that framed her face was fluffy and white, looking soft as downy feathers, and her paws and tail had similar fringing. Her eyes were a vivid green, almost painful to look at for their vibrancy.

"She might be a little different than us," River told her under his breath, eyes darting to the she-cat and away, "but she is an efficient killer. She killed a fox that got into the Warren once before anyone could even say anything. It was during her trials—she was stuck in the Warren working like you and Declan did—and Lucky didn't need to see any more than that: he made her a Slider that instant."

Twist shot a wary look at Lightfoot. The she-cat had a dangerous edge to her that reminded Twist sharply of someone she dearly wished she could forget.

Lightfoot turned those vivid green eyes Twist's direction, glaring piercingly, but she spoke to River. "Are we almost there?"

Surprisingly, it was Flint who answered. "No," he mewed. "Not yet."

Lightfoot looked at him. "How do you know?"

His voice was grim when he replied, "We haven't been attacked yet."

Twist couldn't hold back a shiver. "That means they have sentries around."

"Yes." River looked thoughtful. "We'll have to proceed carefully."

"Why?" Beck demanded. "Why not let out presence be known and draw them out like rats to rubbish?"

"That's foolish!" Gravel snapped, his pelt bristling on edge—he was clearly keyed-up in this situation. "We need to listen to River. This is his patrol anyway."

"Yes, against the better judgment of Lucky." Beck's voice was sardonic.

"No one asked you to come. If you'd rather have had Lucky sit around and do nothing, you should have stayed in the Warren." River took a step forward until he and Beck were nose to nose. "Or are you thinking you should be in charge?"

Beck didn't back down. "Maybe I am. What would you do then?"

"I won't let anything get in charge of this mission. If we kill the Rogue, all our problems will be solved. We'll be able to claim their land and move out of the trash-place. It'll be better for everyone."

"Who died and made you Lucky?" Beck spat, arching his back. "Because I don't recall placing my vote for you."

"We need to be quiet!" Gravel was eyeing the trees nervously. "River, _please_."

This was getting out of control. The way that River and Beck were hissing and carrying on, it would surely lead to a brawl right there in enemy territory. Twist stepped forward, "River, can we—"

"No," Lightfoot said, blocking Twist's path with her tail. "This is a matter to settle between toms."

Twist blinked incredulously. "You'd let them alert the enemy?"

Lightfoot narrowed her brilliant eyes to slits. "I don't get in the middle of a fight that isn't mine to win. Stand aside and let them handle it."

Twist bared her teeth. "I'm not going to put my own neck on the line for two stupid toms!"

Eyes flashing, Lightfoot took a step closer. Slowly, she curled her lips back from her teeth and unsheathed her claws. "Would you care to continue this, or are you going to be silent? I told you not to invite kits on an adult's mission, River."

River jerked his head away from Beck, with whom he was exchanging snarls, to glower at her. "She's worth more than most Sliders. She doesn't listen to Lucky's self-preservation garbage."

"I didn't say that," Twist argued hotly. "Max was hurt because of this stupid cat. That's the only reason I'm here. I don't give a mousetail for your gang's politics."

Lightfoot laughed, amused, but it wasn't a pleasant sound. "Our gang," she repeated with relish. "This is _your_ gang, too, little kit. When you chose to wait out the moon, you chose membership."

"I…" But Twist couldn't say anymore. The matter had been brought right out into the open now—the real reasons that she had agreed to stay here. She hated being around other cats, she had been adamant about that, but what was it that kept her here, among all these strangers?

_No, _she thought. _Not strangers. _

The Sliders had grown into a kind of close…thing. Not a family, not exactly friends, but it was something. Loyalty. Ties of relation instead of blood: ties that linked each Slider to the other, despite the fact that most couldn't stand the others.

Lightfoot's mouth twisted wryly. "I thought so. Now, can we continue our journey, or shall we—" There was a quick burst of dark fur and Lightfoot went down. She hit the ground with a thud, another cat perched on her back, raking its claws through her fur with a vicious intensity.

River and Beck, still standing close enough to fight, turned at the sound of Lightfoot's furious screech. Open-mouthed, they just stared as the black-and-white she-cat grappled with the dark rogue.

Twist moved forward at the same time Gravel did, but there was no need.

Lightfoot, pinned to the ground by the heavy rogue, swung out sideways with her hindpaw, hitting the rogue right in the gut. His breath whooshed out in a foul gasp, and Lightfoot reached up with a forepaw and grabbed him by the shoulder, sinking her claws right down into his skin. Heaving him down, she threw him to the ground, pouncing on top of him and going for his throat in one terrifyingly smooth motion.

Twist jammed her eyes closed and turned away sharply as the rogue's high shriek of pain filled the air, choking off into a sickening gurgle, and then it was silent.

Lightfoot, leaving the body of her attacker-turned-victim, began to prowl around the path, her jaw stained with the blood of the rogue. "Come on out!" she yowled, fury hot as fire in her voice. "Come on. Who else wants some? I'll give you the same treatment as your friend here!" She whirled back to the body and grabbed it by the scruff, swinging the rogue toward the treeline.

"Lightfoot." Beck didn't sound particularly shocked now. "Stop it."

The white she-cat turned to him, and her raised fur smoothened. She drew herself up, licking a paw to clean her face. "That takes care of that." She nodded at the rogue.

River was frowning, but his tail was trembling, giving away his shock. "There was only one," he said slowly.

Twist looked at the rogue, her stomach roiling. Blood seeped out of the neat, small gash near his throat, just beneath his jaw. She'd killed mice and birds before with a similar technique, but to see it on another cat was nauseating; she felt she might be sick.

"Yes, good thing," Lightfoot said sarcastically.

"I _meant_," he clarified, "where are the others? Why did they only send one when they could have sent dozens?"

"Maybe he was a sentry." Gravel, who seemed near ready to be ill, had his wide eyes fixed on the rogue.

Flint shook his head, shaking from nose to tail tip. "It couldn't be that. It has to be a trap."

"Why would they sacrifice one of their own for a stupid trap?" River asked disparagingly.

Twist blinked. "Because it's a bigger trap."

The other cats turned to look at her.

Shuffling embarrassedly, she said, "Well, I mean, look at him." She went to him and reached out to gently prod him; he fell to the side with a soft shifting sound that made Twist's fur stand on end. Licking her paw, she brushed it against his fur, then turned back to the others, holding her paw up for their inspection.

Flint leaned so close that Twist could see the darker flecks in his yellow eyes. "It's mud!" he said, stunned.

"Mud!" River looked between Twist's paw and the body as if he couldn't believe it. "For…for what? For hiding?"

"To hide his pelt color." Lightfoot's eyes were very wide. "She's right. It's a trap."

"How could that be a trap?" Gravel shifted from paw to paw nervously, still looking around the trees.

Beck snorted. "It's covering their pelt colors. Maybe they're doing it to hide themselves in the woods."

"Or to sneak up on us," Flint put in. "To hide their scent."

Twist set her paw back down, feeling the grit of the mud scrape her pad. "Or to hide their numbers," she said.

When she'd been in Stripes's gang, they had done it several times to confuse the Tribe. Coat a cat in mud so thickly that even his gangmate couldn't tell him from the next cat, and you could use him to bewilder anyone you wanted.

"What if they've been sending the same cat after the Sliders every time?" she suggested. "What if the rogues only number maybe five or six?"

River stared down at the rogue's body. "That's impossible," he whispered.

"How could it be?" Beck was looking less aggressive and more contemplative now. "Surely we would have noticed that. I mean, we've been fighting with these mongrels for _moons_!"

"Even if we've noticed this much, what's the point?" Gravel sounded impatient. "We have to keep moving or we'll be caught."

"Too late," growled a voice from behind them.

Twist's heart leapt to her throat as she whirled to face the cat. Her mind filled with Lightfoot's bloody, capable paws, shredding into rogue cats, the shrieks of the victims of the attack, her own pelt sliced through and through by enemy claws, her ears ripped by teeth and claws until all she had was a nub like poor Max.

But the eyes glowing through the gloom weren't the Rogue's. They were Snit's.

River stepped forward at once. "Hello, Snit."

Snit didn't move. "What are you doing out this far, River?" His mismatched eyes slid past River to the others behind him, locking on Twist and narrowing.

River stayed calm. "We're out patrolling, of course. We have to keep up our protection during this kind of days. Especially after Max got—"

"This looks an awful lot like an attacking party."

River's jaw clenched. "It could seem that way," he admitted, swishing his tail idly behind him. "`But I assure you it's not. We'll be on home soon. You go ahead and head back."

"Yes, a patrol." Snit nodded in understanding. "Then I'm sure Lucky won't be upset when I tell him."

Lightfoot let out a soft hiss, so quiet that Twist was sure she was the only one who could hear it.

"This is none of your concern, Snit."

"Oh, but it is. You see, today Twist had duties with me. She was supposed to watch Max after Audrey. When Audrey's shift was up and Twist wasn't there… Well, we were a little surprised." His eyes narrowed farther. "So I tracked you."

River made a quick motion of surprise. "You had no right to—"

"I had every right!" Snit shouted. "What you're doing is putting us all in danger, River! Just because of some half-conceived idea of revenge, you'll be condemning us all to death!"

"You're being overdramatic," Beck said coldly.

Snit shot him a quick look of loathing before turning back to River. "What happens if you go? You'll either be killed or followed back to the Warren. And then what? The only reason we've survived this long is because of Lucky! And this is how you repay him? By going behind his back and against his direct orders to kill some cat who probably doesn't even exist? Max didn't die, River. Flint."

Flint started at the sound of his name, moving away from his position of embarrassed crouching. "What?"

"I know you're trying to make up for your horrible older brother view." Snit sounded anything but sympathetic. "But Max already looks up to you. He doesn't even shut up about you. So if you're trying to pretend you're doing this for his sake, you're kidding yourself."

"Shut up, Snit," River warned.

"No, actually, I won't shut up. Not unless you turn around right now and head home."

"We're on a mission, Snit. I wouldn't expect you to understand it."

Snit laughed then. "Understand it? Revenge? You think I don't understand that? You, of all cats, River?"

_What's that supposed to mean? _Twist eyed River closely for a reaction but he had none.

"Go home, Snit," he repeated.

Snit growled, lowering his ears. "No."

"I am tired of this." Lightfoot looked keen to kill again, with her fur fluffed up to twice its size and her claws unsheathed. "River, let me handle this."

At her voice, a touch of fear entered Snit's eyes, but to his credit, he didn't show it anymore than that. "I didn't know you unleashed the dog to come with you, River," he snorted. "Although, all you really have to do is send her in the direction of beating hearts these days and let her go to work, don't you?"

Lightfoot yowled furiously. "Don't tempt me, you stupid little rat. I won't hesitate to punish you. If there's any cat to go after the Rogue, it's me. I'm not like you soft-hearted fools: I wouldn't show such a monster pity."

"As if you're one to call another a monster, Lightfoot." Snit's bravado was still holding strong; Twist didn't think she could have done it if their places were reversed.

Drawing her lips back, Lightfoot hissed.

"Enough!" River was trying desperately to regain control before it turned into an all-out brawl. Twist saw him turn to Beck, who had drawn back his teeth at Flint. The younger tabby backed away, ears flat, a growl rising in his throat, and just as quickly, Gravel jumped to his side.

Snit's eyes met Twist's through the clearing. They held an unspoken taunt: _I bet you didn't tell Declan where you went. _

Fur prickling, she looked away.

But that didn't stop Snit. He crossed the clearing in three sweeping lopes and was by her side. "Are you going to come back with me?" he asked lightly.

"Why would I do that?" she snapped, but her resolve was faltering now. With the death of one of the Rogue's cats, surely he would come after them for equal blood: he knew that Lucky wouldn't.

Behind them, the argument raged on. She could hear Beck's high protests against Gravel, who had stepped forward and was using every bit of his hulking, bristling gray fur to intimidate the younger cat. River was helpless to stop them, Flint was too busy posturing to be of any use to anyone, and Lightfoot was strangely and unnaturally silent. Her tail flicked absently as Twist turned to look at her, her green eyes filled with something that she could only describe as delight.

"Hey," Snit said roughly. "This is your only chance. If this pulls through, who knows what could happen to us? Or to those who are still in the Warren." His mismatched eyes glowed in the darkness, the yellow one seeming even more vibrant than the green; it was an unnerving effect.

Twist hesitated. Then, she said, "I don't know if this is right."

"It's not," Snit assured her.

"But," she continued, a growl edging her tone, "I'm tired of running away from everything. That's how I got to be at the Warren in the first place. I hate fighting, and I hate being fought with, but I can't let someone get away with this."

Snit lowered his head until his eyes were shadowed. "If you choose this, you might die."

"I don't care," she said honestly.

He didn't look surprised. "And when the Rogue sends back his cats to the Warren, Declan might die, too. And Audrey." The way he framed her name was awkward, his voice shook, and he immediately cleared his throat. "You'd risk that for a reckless chance to be a hero?"

Twist opened her mouth to reply, then closed it. Against her will, she felt a prickle of shame run down her spine. This was careless, she realized. Running blind into an enemy nest with no concept of how many there were. Just because she knew about what Stripes's gang used to do didn't mean she could generalize about everything else.

And a heartbeat later, she realized that thought was right.

With no warning, a weight hit her in the back. She fell forward, her chin crashing into the ground, digging a furrow that blossomed with the smell of dark soil. Hissing in pain, she tried to whirl around, but her captor put a heavy, unsheathed paw on the back of her neck, the tips of his claws pricking her skin.

"Don't move," he breathed into her ear, his voice deep and ragged.

She shivered…and obeyed.

More cats had poured into the clearing. From her perspective on the ground, cheek pressed into the rotten leaves on the ground, Twist could see that the rogues weren't just running in—they were leaping from the trees. Dozens of them, all dark-pelted and strong-smelling, and all with claws unsheathed and ready to tear.

Lightfoot let out a sound that was closer to a scream than a shriek—it rose the hair on Twist's spine—and flew into action. Her claws slashed out at those who were brave enough to come near her, a shrieking, out-of control whirlwind of pale fur and dark shadows.

Twist shuddered at the sight—Lightfoot truly was a monster.

It took four of the rogues to hold her down, compared to Twist's measly one, though the weight he put behind her head told her he outweighed her by a considerable amount.

River was just beside her, struggling in the dirt, eyes flashing. He glared hatred up at his rogue. "Who are you?" he rasped.

The rogue cuffed him over the head, the motion giving away the white underbelly he was hiding beneath a cover of mud. "Shut up!" he hissed. "No talking! If you try to run, we will catch you, and we _will_ kill you."

"You can't kill me!" Twist couldn't see her anymore, but Lightfoot's screech was clearly audible. "You can't kill me! I'll kill all of you! Do you hear me? I will _kill all of you!_"

"Silence her." The voice was dead, flat, emotionless. Twist swiveled her ears to the sound, eyes widening as she saw the cat stride further into the clearing.

"I told you that they weren't to be hurt," he said. "And you _will_ obey my orders."

It was Snit.

* * *

**Ba baaaaaaaa! That's an alright cliffie, I suppose. XD**

**I've gotta go to Theories and Practice of Creative Writing now. That sounds fun, but it's just a lecture course. D: Lametastic.**

**Anyway,**

**R&R~ **

**Shadow**


	12. Chapter 12

**HAHAHAHA, I TOLD YOU I COULD DO IT!**

**Anywaaaaaaaay...**

**LegendaryHero - Pretty much right now, this is a whenever-I-have-time thing. Like, I do original fiction and stuff, and then homework and all that other crap, so this is just for fun. And with ABNA-a writing contest-coming up, I'm probably gonna be a little more irregular, if just for the next two weeks or so. I've gotta get my novelly-thing in order before I put fanfiction forward, y'know?**

**Crowstorm - Hum hum~ I guess you'll find out sooon~**

**The Last Sketch - Thanks! This one...not so much. XD**

**And onto the story!**

* * *

Declan had spent the day shoving around large pieces of metal, straining his shoulders until the muscles screamed in protest. He panted, tongue hanging out like a dog, as he flopped into a sitting position, his tail swishing behind him. Looking at the pile he'd managed to shift already, he felt a warm bubble of pride rise in his chest; Declan enjoyed living here where he could do something that helped another cat—an entire group of cats, as it was—and relished the hotness in his muscles that came from physical labor.

"Good job." The speaker was a large gray tabby tomcat named Kent, whom Declan had met the first day he and Twist had arrived here. Kent looked at the metal pile approvingly, nodding. "You've got the strength for this kind of job."

"Thank you," Declan mewed, a purr caught in his throat.

"You're the only one who managed to move all of them. Pop and Lenny only managed half of theirs, and that's being generous." He shook his head. "They're simple little pets, though. I don't know why they would give up the pampered life for this one, though."

"This kind of life is better, that's why." Declan looked at the metal, shiny and bright in the fading light. The sunlight caught along the sharp edges, sparking into bands of red and gold; in the breath of wind, the colors looked almost like fire.

Declan quickly averted his gaze, already imagining the dull burn of smoke in his nostrils. He'd had enough of fires to last him a lifetime.

Kent looked surprised. "Were you a pet, Declan?"

"Once," he admitted. "But that was a long time ago."

"What made you change your mind to come here? Didn't you have housefolk? A family?"

Declan looked over at him; Kent was a good cat, a good friend, and seemed trustworthy enough. "They died."

Kent's eyes widened. "I…I'm sorry."

Declan turned away, shrugging. He felt bad about making Kent feel guilty about something far out of both of their controls. "Don't be. It was a long time ago, like I said. I was a kit. I can hardly remember them, anyway." A lie. It was easy, Declan thought, dipping his head to Kent and walking away, stretching out his stiff legs. Lying had become almost as easy as breathing to him these days.

The Warren was full of activity as usual. Declan could see Viktor and his mate Kite taking their little kits outside the nest-den for some weak sunshine. He purred as he saw Twist's kit—the one she named Streak—stretch his little legs and paw at his siblings.

Twist was so secretive, he mused, nodding to Viktor when they met eyes. She always kept her thoughts to herself, her heart shaded from him. Most of Declan's time these days seemed filled with thoughts of her, why she was the way she was, and what kind of life she must have had up in the mountains. She'd told him a little—a cat named Stripes led a gang she and her mother belonged to—but nothing more than that. Declan knew better than to pressure her about it, though: after all, he had his own secrets to keep.

"Hey, you!" A head poked out of a nearby box-nest, golden-ginger and tabby. "Whatcha doing right now?"

"Hey, Audrey." Declan liked this she-cat whom always seemed to be in a good mood. "I was just going back to the den, I guess."

"Oh, well, I have something better for you to do." Her green eyes glittered mischievously. "Want to see?"

Amused, Declan said, "Alright," and followed after the sprightly she-cat.

She led him through the winding cluster of box-nests, clambering up the side of the metal pipe that ran through them and to the other side, diving underneath it to where there were real, earthy dens dug in the soft soil. Declan had only been here to visit Lucky, and that was only just once: a few nights after he'd gotten initiated into the Sliders, he'd had a meal with the leader, an awkward one that was filled with heavy, stilted silence.

"Here!" Audrey ducked under a low roof into one of the dens, this one lined with soft downy feathers like a queen's nest.

Declan stopped abruptly, the scent of blood reaching his nose. "What is this?"

"Huh?" Audrey poked her head back out; she had a feather stuck right on her nose. In any other case, Declan might have laughed but he didn't this time.

"That smell. Blood?"

"Yeah, this is the sick-den." Her eyes shadowed a bit then, and she added, "This is where Max is kept."

Declan felt a squeeze of pain in his heart. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Snit isn't here. I don't know where he went." She frowned. "He always does that, going off by his own into the woods. I asked him if I could come one time, and he told me no so quickly, it was like I asked him to leap off a cliff with me!" She scoffed, tossing her head. "Not like I care, anyway."

Declan held back a laugh. _She sure doesn't care, all right. _

"Anyway," Audrey said, snapping back to her bouncy attitude. "Come on in. Don't worry, Max isn't awake. Snit gave him some plant-stuff to make him sleepy."

"How does Snit know that kind of stuff?" Declan asked, ducking in after her, eyes widening when he saw where he was.

This den was large and expansive, gray-ceiling with a sheet of rock that pressed out over the den as efficiently as the roof of a box-nest. The ground was covered with feathers, but underneath that was a dry layer of sand. In the corner was a small curved object, amazingly filled with clean water; Declan watched as a hole in the ceiling dripped in another trickle of water into the object, making a slight splash. The room branched off into separate little dens—about ten of them—and through the tunnel that led to the one nearest Declan, he could smell Max's scent and the smell of stale blood.

Audrey waved her tail around the cavernous place. "Isn't this cool?"

"H-how does it work? I mean, how was it made?"

She shrugged. "I wasn't here then. It was built a little before Lucky took over, though, probably by some other cats or something. Lucky's brilliant—I know I've told you that—so he oversaw the rest of it. He put in these tunnels and the little dens, and he got the hole in the ceiling. You've seen the one in his den, right? It's kind of the same. Oh, and he also got the water-shell in."

"Water-shell?" Declan's eyes darted to the curved thing he'd noticed first.

Audrey went over to it, bent her head, and lapped up a sip. She turned to Declan, licking her lips. "It's perfectly good water." She rested her paw on the thing. "This is called a shell. They come from this _huge_ lake of water that's salty to taste. Do you know of it?"

Declan shook his head. Salty water?

Audrey shrugged. "It works by collecting dew, Lucky says. I don't really understand it." She shook quickly, as if flicking off the thoughts. "Anyway, let's see to Max."

Max was in a bad way; his black-and-brown tabby fur was matted and unkempt, his eyes closed against fever-caused runniness. The large brown spot in the middle of his forehead looked like a drop of crusted blood compared to his ears: one was normal with just a series of nicks down the side, but the other was completely gone, with only a scabby line where it had once attached to his head.

"Oh." The soft sound that came from Declan's throat was involuntary.

Audrey swept close to Max, gently running her tongue along his wounded ear. "He's healing," she assured him, looking up at him with bright, positive eyes. "It'll just take awhile to be back to normal. But he will be. He will." Her voice was fierce.

"You seem close to him," Declan said, sitting down on the soft ground.

Audrey cast Max a fond look. "I'm his guardian. You know how Twist is for Kite's kits? Max's mother abandoned him shortly after he was born and Wisp found him. She took him and his two littermates, but they didn't survive for very long. Flint came with them—he was older—and really protective of his brothers. He got all caught up in Slider life and when Max was just old enough to understand…" She trailed off, shrugging. "I was kind to Lilac—that was their surrogate mother—so she asked me to guard for the kits like any mother would have."

"You keep saying 'was.'"

Audrey nodded, a sad twist coming to her mouth. "She died. The Rogue killed her." She turned her face away. "She tried to protect Max and Flint. She rushed out in front of the Rogue's party and they captured her. They tried to 'reason' with her." Audrey's voice became hard. "Tried to get her to betray Lucky and the Sliders. She wouldn't. He killed her personally."

Declan felt a shiver pass through his fur. "Did you see?"

"No." Audrey's eyes were still distant as she looked down at Max. "Snit told me about it. He went with Lilac to try and fight off the rogues. He was brave…and lucky. He came back alive."

"Did you and Snit come here together?"

She shook her head. "I haven't been here for very long. Snit's been here for four seasons almost. I was actually just wandering around and got found." She purred. "Like you. And like Twist. Snit found his way here somewhere—we're about the same age, you know, maybe a little older than you." She put her head to the side. "How old are you?"

"Oh, I don't know." Declan couldn't keep track of things like time very well. "I was born two hot seasons ago."

"Ah." Her eyes flashed with understanding. "Yeah, me and Snit are a bit more than that." She laughed then. "It's funny to think of ages, don't you think? I mean, Twist can't be more than ten moons or so."

"Oh?" His head whirled; he'd never thought of it. In that way, she seemed barely older than a kit.

Audrey had that distant look in her eyes again. "I worry for her, you know. Twist. She's just so…"

"So Twist," he murmured.

Audrey's ears flicked. "Do you know her well, Declan?"

Declan turned to look down at Max; it was more comfortable than looking into Audrey's very green eyes. "I know her better than the other Sliders," he said, after a measurable pause. "But not well, no. She is…very mysterious. And secretive."

"As are you," Audrey said, voice low.

He closed his eyes, chuckling once. "As am I," he agreed.

"Lucky doesn't like secrets." Her voice was almost petulant, like a kit's.

"Lucky has a lot of secrets," he countered lightly, opening his eyes to see her strangely hurt expression.

Noticing this, Audrey dropped the topic, her fur fluffing up around her shoulders. "Anyway, I just wanted you to see Max. I had to find someone to take over my shift since Snit isn't here."

"Where's Snit?"

"He goes out by himself sometimes. It's difficult for him to be around cats sometimes, so he just goes off into the woods. He won't be back for awhile." She put her mouth to the side and added, "And Twist was supposed to take over her shift next but she's not here. I can't find her anywhere."

Declan felt his heart stop in his chest. "What do you mean?" he asked slowly, dread seeping through his veins like ice.

Audrey shrugged, now looking a little annoyed. "I don't know. She's not in her den and she's not with Wisp. I even looked around the perimeter. No one saw her." Then she frowned, her brow wrinkling a little over her eyes. "No one but that little twerp, Marco. He said he saw her but he wouldn't tell me anything else."

_Marco. _The young cat who had come to give Twist a message from River.

A message about a secret attack party to go and find the Rogue and kill him.

An attack party that Twist gave her word she wouldn't go on.

"Stars above," he whispered. "I have to go."

"What?" Declan heard Audrey's sharp, shocked question, but was already out of the den and up into the mess of box-nests. He flung himself forward, shoving past cats, some of whom raised complaints, until he burst free of the nest-place and out into the open.

"Hey!" He sparked the interest of the guard on duty, this time a thin, bony cat named Iggy.

"I have to get by," Declan said, out of breath. "Let me through. _Please_."

"What's going on?"

Declan turned, weak relief flooding through him when he noticed who it was. "Viktor," he pleaded. "You have to let me go out. Please. I promise I won't run away."

"Calm down, son." Maybe it was the agonized terror in Declan's voice or his rattled stance, but Viktor's gruff voice softened with fatherly concern. "What's going on?"

Declan clenched his teeth. Should he make something up to appease Viktor now so he was free to leave? Or should he tell the truth and save precious time? "It's…River."

"River!" Viktor's single eye flared with surprise. "What's he…" Then Declan saw it click in Viktor's mind. "He's going to find the Rogue, isn't he? How many did he take?"

"I don't know," Declan said quickly, breathlessly. "Enough. Twist is with him. Viktor, you have to let me go. Please, just trust me." When Viktor looked hesitant, Declan said again, "_Please. _Everything I care about in the world is out there in those woods. You have to let me go get her back." The word _her _fell from his mouth easily, without any thought at all. "Please, Viktor. Trust me." His voice was only a whisper by the end.

Viktor stood there for a moment more, eye hard as granite, then inclined his head. "Iggy."

The scrawny tom started at the sound of his name. "Y-yes?"

"I want you to go and find Lucky. Tell him that Declan and I are going on a rescue mission. If we don't come back before moonhigh, we're dead. Tell him not to find us."

Declan shivered at the word _dead_ but did not back down.

Iggy looked appalled. "But…Viktor. Your kits."

"Will be ashamed of me if I don't take a stand right now." Viktor turned on the smaller cat, teeth bared. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

Iggy's eyes flickered between Declan and Viktor. "I want to come, too. You need more capable claws, don't you? And I can fight."

Now Viktor looked satisfied. "Good. We can tell Lucky when we get back." Then, under his breath, added, "It's probably for the best."

They left immediately, flying through the forest on quick, agile paws. Declan watched the sun set lower, every fall of his paws and every beat of his heart reminding him of the time—dusk would settle soon. How could Twist cope with the shadows? She would be terrified.

The expression she made whenever fear overcame her flashed in his mind, and he willed his paws faster.

Viktor had picked up the party's scent farther out in the woods, and was now tracking them easily. "They didn't bother to hide their scent," he noted softly. "Amateurs."

"That means they weren't looking to be sly about it," Iggy put in, his voice a growl.

Declan trotted around the clearing, nose to the ground. He couldn't smell anything, but then again, he'd never properly learned how. He and his brother Leo had always just practiced tracking birds in the backyard with their housefolk.

The pang he felt at the thought of his brother overcame him for a moment, but he swallowed it back. He had to help Twist now.

"Over here!"

Declan rushed to Iggy's side and looked to where the scraggly tom was pointing with his nose.

The ground was torn up here, with obvious signs of a struggle. Declan could pick out claw marks gouged into the ground here and there, and in one place, there was a clump of white fur. For a moment, Declan's heart stopped before he remembered that Twist had white fur only on her throat—and it definitely wasn't this long.

Iggy snorted at the scent. "Lightfoot." He moved away. "And here, River. Gravel, too, I think."

"Flint was here." Viktor pushed through a clump of brambles with his broad shoulders. In his mouth was a scrap of gray fur. Spitting it out on the ground, Viktor growled, "I can still smell his fear scent. He was here recently."

"They all were." Iggy's pale eyes darted to the base of the trees. "By the stars," he swore softly. "They leapt from the trees, Viktor. Look at the ground!"

Declan looked, too, but his inexpert eyes couldn't see anything but smudges in the dirt. He walked over to one of the spots—vaguely catlike, he thought—and dipped his head. He inhaled slowly, sifting through the scent of churned earth and leaf-rot until he found the one he'd been hoping and dreading to find. "Twist," he said, his voice a strangled gasp. He looked up, past Iggy's furrowed expression to Viktor. "They took her."

Viktor narrowed his single eye. "They will pay for this," he said softly.

"They'll pay now. Viktor, we can't allow this to pass." Iggy bared his teeth. "We have to go after them."

Slowly, Viktor shook his head. "If we do, we'll be making the same mistake they did. Judging from all the scent around here, the Rogue sent his cats to get them. No doubt they've been taken away to keep us from finding them."

"Then why aren't they here now?" Declan asked raggedly. His legs were trembling.

Viktor sighed heavily and sat down, letting his thick tail swish behind him. "I don't know," he admitted.

"We can't sit here and do nothing!"

"Declan, we can't do anything. If we were to try and track them, we'd be playing right into the Rogue's paws. He's smart, no matter what any other cat says. As smart as Lucky. Maybe even more." He looked Declan right in the eyes. "We can't."

At once, a hot rush of fury swept through Declan. He'd never felt so angry before—it almost felt like he could set fire with the strength of his rage. "We have to! Aren't you a Slider? Don't you care about them? River? Gravel? Flint?" His voice shook as he carried on. "What about Twist? She's your kits' guardian! That makes her more than blood to you, and to them."

"Declan," Iggy protested, but Declan swept on.

"We can't follow them? Why?" he demanded. "Why can't we? Because of you? Because of Lucky? The Sliders? I don't care! I'll go without your help! I don't need the Sliders! All I need is to find Twist. Do you understand me, Viktor? Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Viktor allowed him to finish, his expression infuriatingly unmoved. "Please, Declan, you don't know who you're dealing with. The Rogue is unlike any other cat you've encountered, I assure you."

Declan was shaking. "I'll see for myself."

Viktor snorted. "Don't be a fool."

Iggy was watching nervously, shifting from foot to foot. "We're wasting time. Let's go back to the Warren and tell Lucky about this. He can decide the next course of action." His voice lowered to a rumbling growl. "If that's not good enough for you, Declan, I'll go with you to find the Rogue. You're right; this has gone too far."

Declan didn't give Iggy any more thanks than a curt nod: he didn't want words right now—he wanted actions.

Viktor walked past Declan, brushing his thick, muscular shoulder against the younger cat's. "Patience, Declan. We have to have patience. They'll be fine. The Rogue won't kill them without prompting. We just need to act quickly to save them. But we _will _save them. Do you understand me?"

Declan said, "I understand," but he didn't meet Viktor's eyes. Betrayal was singing through his veins like poison.

The other two cats went on ahead, but Declan lingered for a moment longer, looking back into the silent forest. The trees stood like the stone pillars that ran around Lucky's den, strong and unyielding, and the woods deepened from orange to red here, making the way ahead look like one made of blood. Declan raised his nose and took in the cold air; he could detect just the faintest trace of Twist. She was out there, terrified and alone, and here he was, powerless to help.

"Just a little longer, Twist," he whispered to no one, feeling a gust of air that told him deep in his gut that the cold season was about to break. "Just a little longer. I'll save you, I promise."

* * *

**Meh, what can you do? XD**

**On a rather random note, there's this guy in my Theory and Practice of Creative Writing class that looks identical to Jack Bauer. I don't know whether to be amused or terrified. XD**

**Anyway, I have to go to sleep now, for I have a class tomorrow...at 12:30. Hey, don't judge: college students need more sleep than infants, I swear. :P**

**You know the drill.**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	13. Chapter 13

**Haaa, okay. Now _this _is two in a day. I think. Maybe. WHAT NOW, LEGEND?**

**Sky Fireheart - Hee~ Kaaay~ :D**

**Crowstorm - I wonder indeeeed~**

**LegendaryHero - Hee~ Thanks! I'd imagine that since it's almost winter now, that would make Declan like one-and-a-half, so he's like...I dunno. Half a year olderish than Twist? **

**A fallen tree - But...you just did. XD**

**Kitro Kat - Confusing double post is confusing! Did you really review twice? Or have I just attracted two people with the exact same penname? XD Hee~ Yes, I definitely like writing from his perspective. I think I might do it more often. :D:D**

**And onto the story!**

* * *

Twist couldn't believe it. If her jaw wasn't being pressed into the cold ground, it would have been hanging open.

Snit. The one that Lucky himself trusted. The medic. The one who fiercely protected the Sliders, protected Max, the one who stuck up for Audrey and Declan, the one who taught her how to hunt rats to feed the rest of the cats.

A traitor.

"Filthy, worthless piece of dung!" Lightfoot was shrieking, her voice high enough to shatter ice. "I'll kill you the first chance I get! Stupid mongrel! Traitor!"

Snit flattened his ears against the sound and looked to the rogue holding down Lightfoot's neck. "Shut her up. I can't stand that sound."

"How could you do this to us?" River snarled viciously, twisting furiously back and forth, but he couldn't get loose. "You're not just betraying us! What about your friends? What about the Sliders?"

Snit ignored him. "Bronze, just take them back to the site. I don't want them to see the camp. Take them to the pits and leave them there." His eyes slid over Twist, curled uncomfortably on the ground with her paws jammed beneath her chest. "Don't let them make any noise. One squeak out of any of you, and I'll let them slit your throats. Got it?"

Twist glared venom at him but said nothing.

"Good." He straightened, ruffling his fur back into place. "I have to go back now. They'll suspect if I don't."

"What am I supposed to tell him?"

_Him! _The Rogue, Twist thought.

"He can deal for now. I'll be back shortly with my next report." Snit looked away as the cats shoved the Sliders to their feet, pushing them roughly forward. Gravel and Flint went willingly enough, but Lightfoot and River put up such a fight that two rogues had to bowl them off their paws.

Lightfoot shrieked again, clawing out and managing to yank a pawful of fur from a rogue's face before being cuffed so hard across the back of her head that her expression cleared for a moment, her face curiously blank, and she slumped forward, senseless.

Snit eyed this with distaste. "Watch that one. She has no self control." He turned away.

"Snit!" Twist shouted after him, her voice taut with anger and betrayal. "What about Audrey?"

Snit froze then, his shoulders stiffening. Then he turned slowly, walking back up to her with tense strides, until they were nose to nose; she could smell the blood of his last kill on his breath, thick and sweet and sickening. "Don't you dare mention her name again," he breathed, too low for even Twist's guard to hear. "_Ever_. If you do, I'll find out. And then I'll take care of you myself." He turned and stormed away, his black-and-white pelt melting into the shadows beneath the undergrowth.

Twist saw this with a shudder than ran from her nose to her tail. Without even thinking about it, Declan's scent filled her nostrils, almost as strong as if he was here with her. _Oh, stars, _she thought, closing her eyes tight against the sight. _Why didn't I listen to him?_

Twist was forced to march in the center of the cluster of rogues, her shoulder brushing Gravel's and with Beck on his other side. River and Flint, deemed fighters by their captors, had their own separate circle to walk in. Lightfoot was still unconscious, being dragged by a large broad-shouldered rogue until her beautiful fur was muddy and matted.

Twist didn't know she was trembling until Gravel's low voice rumbled out: "Twist, are you okay?"

She swallowed convulsively. "Yes," she lied, but it was weak and he knew it.

Gravel stepped a little closer and gently added, "Don't be afraid. We're getting out of this. They released Max, remember?"

"We won't get out." Beck's pale eyes had taken on a hollow look. "We won't. We're dead. They're going to kill us."

"They won't!" Gravel hissed, and was immediately threatened by one of the rogues.

"No speaking!" the rogue snapped, baring sharp, yellowish teeth. "If I catch you again, we'll do for you what we did to your friend." He tipped his head to motion to Lightfoot, who was being unceremoniously heaved over a clump of stones. Twist winced as the she-cat's head struck against one and began to bleed, but no one else took any notice of her.

Twist closed her mouth, pressing her teeth together to keep them from chattering, and marched on.

Eventually, after the moon had raised partially—enough for Twist to make out her surroundings with a little more ease—the group stopped.

The cat that Snit had commanded went to the front, dipping under a tangle of low branches and into a tunnel Twist hadn't seen before. There was tense silence until he returned, nodded to his gangmates, and stepped to the front of their little party.

"Hello, Sliders." His voice was smooth and even as flat water. "My name is Bronze. As you have noticed, you have been captured."

_Yes, that is quite obvious. _Twist wanted to snarl the words, lace them with threats, but didn't: any action now would be motivated out of anger. She needed more control and direction to her hate before she started anything.

"You will be brought here for the night. We will send word to your leader, Lucky"—the word curled into a derisive snarl in his mouth—"and see just how much he wants you back. If he does…well, we'll use you as bait. If he doesn't, you're deadweight." He straightened, his head cockily high, and asked in a mockingly soothing voice, "Does anyone have any questions?"

Surprisingly, it was Flint who asked, "Where's your leader?"

The rogues laughed.

Bronze, chuckling hard enough to make him breathless, sighed dramatically and said, "Our leader. Do you really think we'd tell you that? You think we'd bring you right into our camp and let you eat out kills and drink our water? You think that the Master wants to see your ugly faces, stinking to the stars of that worthless, spineless coward, Lucky? Please. I know that Sliders aren't the brightest stars in the sky, but come on. You can do better than that." He looked up over Flint's head and nodded.

At once, Twist felt a sharp shove. She whirled, hissing, but the rogue behind her just stood there.

"Go inside the den." The words left no option for disobedience.

Sticking close to Gravel's side, Twist walked up to the entrance to the den. It was small, tangled over and over with brambles that had long since hardened into metal-like thorns, and stank of fear. That single thought made Twist start shaking again, let alone the flickering of shadows inside this den. It was making her heart beat faster, sending cold fear through her veins like ice, freezing her there.

Then River was there. "Come on, Twist, inside." His voice was low and comforting, even though he couldn't have known her fear of shadows. He ducked in first, but Twist could hear his sharp breathing, could smell the fear on his breath and in his wake. He disappeared into the den.

The rogues were waiting, their tails flicking with something close to delight.

"Well?" Bronze drawled.

Twist curled her lip at them, but turned and followed River into the den.

It was nearly pitch-black in here, full of horrible sounds and smells. She could hear what sounded like the mewling of kits, hungry and frightened, and she could hear the moans of a cat suffering from horrifying wounds. The smell of sickness and fear and death were unbearable here, making her choke and splutter, blinding stumbling around the clearing until she ran into something that rattled around her paws like sticks. She stepped back to look at them better, choking back a hysterical shriek of terror.

Bones. Long, white cat bones.

She threw up on the cold, disgustingly slimy ground.

"Twist!" River pressed over to her, and in his eyes Twist saw more shadows, flickering around the band of yellow and around his pupil. She backed away.

The fear was about to overcome her, she could tell. She could feel it rising in her like a dark tide, rushing through every part of her body, could taste it as bitter, bloodlike fear in her mouth.

Someone—not a Slider—grabbed her by the scruff and lifted her like a kit. She could distantly hear a horrible, keening whine as she was swung back and forth. There was a pause in which the cat jerked his chin back and then she was flying through the air, falling down, shadows swirling all around her, and then she hit the bottom.

And suddenly, she was back with the gang in the mountains.

With a horrible burst of clarity, she recognized this place. She had been young then, maybe four or five moons, and this was when Stripes hadn't led the Sliders. As if she was a bird, Twist was watching this memory play out from a high angle, tilted slightly so she could see inside the rocky shelf-dens that the gang had slept in, the very same that she had been born in.

A blurriness came over her vision, and when it cleared, Twist was inside those dens—still high up—and she was watching the gang sleep.

_If this is the time I think it is, _Twist thought, _then my mother will still be alive._

Eagerly now, her mind somehow pushing the fear of the here and now into a distant, dusty place, Twist began to look in earnest.

There was Spence, with his dark tatty fur, with elegant Jumper beside him. They'd always been together, Twist thought, with a surprising amount of fondness. Tick and Primrose were next to them, with Red and Willy flopped a little ways away.

She saw Stripes before she saw herself. A little kitten, small for his age, curled like a bundle of silvery striped fur against his mother's belly. He'd had two siblings but they had died by now, drowned in the stream that ran close by.

Then, with a little aching tremble, Twist saw her mother.

Her mother had beautiful pale tortoiseshell fur, with splashes of gold and orange and white in a lovely pattern. Her eyes, though closed now, glowed a dark green, like leaves, she would always tell Twist. One weak paw—her front one—was the very same one she claimed could tell when it was going to rain. A scar just above her eye showed where she'd been attacked by a hawk when she was pregnant with Twist—her only kit—and there was a nick in the opposite ear just above where it connected to her head.

Twist noticed this all, drank it in, with such a soothing rush of joy and sorrow, that she didn't even notice herself, curled just in the curve of her mother's neck.

And for the first time since seeing her reflection in the no-pelt den, Twist looked at herself.

Her fur was not beautiful, not like her mother's at all: it was dark, mostly dark, dark brown, shot through with the palest streaks of white and yellow that ran like tabby stripes down her back, ending with white paws and a white tail tip. In between her eyes was a small streak of orange that her mother frequently and fondly commented on, and Twist could remember crossing her eyes to try and see it.

In the wash of these memories, Twist almost didn't notice when the scene changed again.

Now it was night, the full moon shining, and the gang was gathered on the mountainside. It was cold—Twist herself couldn't tell, but the image of her younger self was trembling something wild—and hard to see. She watched as her kit-self's eyes darted to the edge of a rock, under which a tangle of shadows was dancing. The kit nudged the one next to her—with a jolt, Twist noticed it was Stripes—and the two crept toward it, lowering into their best hunting crouches, and pounced, giggling.

Twist watched all this with a sad sense of foreboding. This must have been the night.

The cat who was the leader now—Twist couldn't dare look him in the face, even now—spoke with a voice like the cold season. "My friends and kin," he began in a low, measured tone, though there was no affection in his voice. "We are on the brink of a new era. This mountain is harsh and unyielding but we are strong. We are a gang. We will beat this cold season, and the next one, and the next one, because we are _strong. _So, for those of you who wish otherwise, wish to leave, I have one thing to say to you: you – will – not. We are a team, a family, and when one of us shows weakness, we all show weakness."

He paused then, and in her memory—this one that she still could not face without terror—Twist remembered him stalking among the cats of his gang, his shoulders high and dark and imposing against the clear sky. Her mind lit up with the image of his face, backlit silver by the light of the full moon, his eyes glowing like golden fire.

And she had been terrified.

"These kits," he went on, almost purring now, and Twist could imagine him drawing Stripes and herself forward. "These kits are our future. They are strong, filled with good blood, and they will lead our gang into the next generation of strength. Isn't that right, Stripes? Twist?"

Twist jolted at the sound of her name, but she still could not open her eyes. Not when she knew what was coming.

"I'll lead the gang!" Stripes's bold, high voice rang out over the silent mountainside. "I'll do it! For you, Braiser!"

Braiser chuckled, a low sound, and then said, with a little more warmth, "That is the kind of spirit we need, my friends. And what about you, Twist?"

Behind her kit-self, Twist could see her mother holding her breath.

Twist remembered her words here, remembered them like they were etched deep into the surface of her heart.

Her kit-self looked nervously up at the gang leader and said, "I…I don't want to."

Braiser was silent for a moment, then: "You don't want to what, Twist?"

Voice trembling, the little kit said, "I don't want to lead. I don't want to. I just want to be me. I want to be Twist."

With false calm, Braiser said, "Well, can't Twist be a fighter?" Behind the kit, the gang laughed.

"I don't think so. I don't know _how_." Her voice had raised to a plaintive wail. "And I don't know if I want to."

At this, Braiser went deadly silent. "You have to have spirit, Twist. You have to have fire in your heart. And strength. And darkness."

"I don't want that," she had mewed, fierce now, yellow eyes flashing.

And her mother had closed her eyes against the sight.

And now, the present Twist opened her eyes. Her vision had changed again; she wasn't hovering somewhere in the background, but standing right there, right in front of Braiser, looking up at the leader with fresh, young eyes out of her tiny younger self's face.

Braiser's eyes flashed, hot gold, sickly yellow, and he said in a low, rumbling snarl, "Then I will teach you. You can't steel your heart with shadows? Fine. Then I will teach you to _fear _them." He reached out and grabbed Twist by the scruff, and she felt the horror run through her, strong and sickly, and she knew that she'd made the wrong choice of words.

Braiser swung her back and forth, and her world started shaking. He got halfway up the side of the mountain before a voice rang out behind him, long and drawn-out as if it was painful.

"Braiser!" It was Twist's mother, clambering up after the leader. Her weak paw made it hard-going, and she stumbled a few times.

"Stay back."

"No!" She wrenched herself free of a clinging dead bush and threw herself in front of Braiser, her fur fluffed up to twice its size. Her head lowered, green eyes flaring like fire, and she growled in a low, deadly voice, "Let go of my daughter."

Braiser didn't let go, but through his mouthful of Twist's scruff, he said, "She needs to learn a lesson in obedience. When I say something, she will agree."

"She's just a kit!"

"She's old enough to know better."

"Put her down!" Then, to Twist in a lower voice, she said, "Just stay calm, little darling. Be good, okay?"

Braiser jerked Twist around by the scruff. "Don't speak to her. I'm going to teach her a lesson, and then you can have her back." He strode past her mother, pushing her roughly aside.

"Mother!" Twist heard the cry from her own throat as it was torn from her.

Braiser didn't slow down, even as the she-cat hit the ground with a huff of breath. He got all the way to the edge of the mountain and stopped there, Twist swinging back and forth in his jaws.

Below her, the earth fell away in a terrifyingly, dizzyingly plunge. She couldn't see the bottom of it, though she could see the sides—steep and impossible to climb back up if she fell. Sticks and twigs clung to the side when they could, the roots exposed, and as she watched, a pebble dislodged by Braiser's claws tumbled down the side, clattering softly until it fell into the abyss below.

Twist felt her mouth open in a silent scream.

"_Braiser!_" Twist's mother was back on her paws now, one shoulder bleeding from the skid, and her eyes were wild. "Let her _go!"_

In response, Braiser just lifted his chin. The wind pushed Twist's tail, making it flutter out over the void.

"Put her down," her mother begged. "Please, Braiser."

"No gangmate of mine is going to ever show such disobedience again," he growled.

Twist stared down into the ravine. She couldn't take her eyes off of the darkness at the bottom. What if she fell? Would she fall right to that pool of shadows below? Would they part like a stone dropped into water? Would they be cold, suffocating? Would it hurt when she fell through them? What was below? What was within?

A thin wail came from her throat.

"She's not just some gangmate! She's your _daughter! _Do you feel nothing toward your own kit?" Twist's mother came closer now, on hesitant paws, and added, "Please, be calm, little darling. My sweet. My only kit. My precious little heart."

"Don't speak to her!" Braiser sounded disgusted. "When did your dignity leave you, Spirit? As soon as you had this stupid, weak little mongrel, it's like you became a totally different cat. I would have never agreed to this in the first place if I'd known you'd become so pathetic."

"Let my daughter go, Braiser."

"Or else what?" And now Braiser's anger overran his desire to punish the kit. He swung Twist once more over the edge then dropped her, sending her tail over nose to the middle of the clear space. He stepped between Twist and her mother, hateful yellow eyes burning as he lowered his head to a challenge. "Will you fight your own leader? Your mate?"

"You're no mate of mine!" she snarled through clenched teeth, then she leapt.

She hit Braiser right in the chest, knocking the larger cat off balance. He stumbled, his agile paws catching themselves along the very edge of the platform. He used it to launch himself forward, sweeping a paw beneath Spirit's legs. She fell to the ground, the breath knocked out of her, and he heaved himself over her.

Bracing himself with two paws on either side of her crumpled form, he lowered his huge head to her ear and whispered, "Perhaps you need to learn the same lesson as that useless scrap of fur." He inhaled then, eyes narrowing. "Do you fear me, Spirit? I can _smell_ it on you. Is it me you're afraid of, or the darkness? You think I'm going to kill you, darling?"

Spirit pulled her lips back from her teeth and hissed in his face.

Looking speculative now, Braiser pulled back. "No," he said, answering his own question. "You are far too valuable to me alive. You're a strong, brave cat. A worthy mate for me."

"Go jump off a cliff, you stupid carrion-eater!" She struck out with a paw and caught him across the face, slicing out a neat trail of fur in his dark fur.

He rolled with the hit, keeping his eyes away for a moment. Then he looked back, and insane rage filled his eyes. "Alive," he said. "But only _barely!_" And he sank his teeth into her throat.

Twist, who had curled on the ground, trying to make herself look like less of a target, rose at this. Every hair on her small body was standing on end, and her legs were quivering. "Mother!" she yowled.

But Spirit was struggling under the weight of the leader, unable to answer. The pale fur around her throat was messy with blood.

Twist gasped. "_Mother!" _

He was going to kill her. He was going to kill her mother.

She saw it. She knew it.

And she stopped it.

Shrieking aloud with fury and terror, Twist flew into her father's side like a hawk, her tiny claws sinking into his thick fur. They barely pricked his skin, but the force of her charge had knocked him off balance.

He stumbled again, but this time, Twist pulled herself off of him and pushed him again. Her flailing paws caught him around the leg, and her slight weight was enough to make the difference.

Braiser's eyes went wide as he felt himself falling, the white visible all the way around the yellow like a broken egg. Twist was close enough to hear the shocked intake of breath, the final rasp of surprise, before he vanished over the edge.

Twist watched him fall, all the way to the bottom, to the crest of the shadows, and then through, his dark fur melting into the darkness below.

But his eyes. Yellow, bright, hateful, Twist's own eyes, watched her as he fell, glaring hatred and fury and shock, until even they vanished. Twist closed her own eyes as his yowl faded into the dark night, even as it echoed within her mind.

She heard soft paws. "Twist."

Twist turned and pressed her face into her mother's chest fur, her little heart beating fiercely in her chest like a wild bird. "Mother," she said, her voice shaking so badly she was barely intelligible. "Mother."

"I know, my dear heart, I know." Spirit was licking her kit's ears, a little too quickly to be soothing, and murmuring soft words. "It's fine, it's okay. It's all over, my dear. It is all over. Don't be afraid, my love."

"Mother, I—" Twist choked off as bile rose in her throat, strong and bitter, and she threw up right there on the platform.

"Oh, _Twist._"

Her stomach ached, but her heart ached even more. It was pounding hard in her chest, her breath rising to a quick rasp in her throat. "Mother," she began again, her voice a whimper. "Mother, I _killed him."_

"No, my sweet."

"Yes. I…I killed him. He's dead because of me!" She turned to Spirit then, and she could feel the panic beginning to overcome her. "Mother, what am I going to do? What am I going to tell the gang? What…what's going to happen to me?"

The penalty for even going against the leader was horrible punishment—what would happen to her now that she'd killed him?

Spirit's green eyes, such lovely green eyes, were distant, and Twist knew her mother was thinking, hard. "Twist, I need you to do something for me."

Twist was confused. "What? No, Mother, I—"

"Listen! I need you to pay attention right now, Twist." Spirit turned her face away, taking in a sharp breath, then turned back, her jaw set. "I did this. I'm the one who killed him."

"Mother," Twist whispered with horrible realization. "No, no."

"Yes, Twist. I killed him. We were fighting over your punishment and I pushed him over the edge. I'm the one who killed Braiser. You were just here. Do you understand me, Twist?"

Twist understood, but everything in her wanted to shake her mother for even thinking such things. "You can't say that!" she protested. "They'll kill you!"

"They won't," she said, calmly though her legs shook. "They won't. Because I'm leaving. Tonight." She shot a glance up at the moon. "Very soon."

"Where are we going?" Twist asked in a trembling voice. Already, she was thinking it through: what to tell her friend—all she had was Stripes, her best friend—how to hunt, where to find the cleanest water, how long it would take, where they would go… It ran through and through her mind in an endless loop.

"No we, little one." Spirit's eyes were tranquil. "You're staying here."

"No!"

"This is how it has to be. This is the best thing for you."

"The best thing for me is to be with you!" Twist felt ice run through her veins. "We have to be together! What am I supposed to do here without you, Mother?"

"You'll be fine, my dear." She watched Twist's silent anguish before closing her eyes and saying softly, "Come here."

Twist ran to her, burying her muzzle in her mother's soft fur and breathing in her scent. "Please let me come with you."

Twist felt the warm weight of Spirit's head as she rested her chin on her kit's head. "No, Twist. It has to just be me." She licked Twist's ear very gently, smoothing the fur behind it, then pulled away. The moonlight glowed around her neat, triangular ears, the place between sending a dark slash of shadow down her face.

Twist recoiled with a hiss of fear, the image of that dark abyss flashing in her mind like a burst of light.

Spirit flinched, then came back and licked Twist's head again, this time with desperation in her soothing gestures. "I love you, Twist. Please, please remember that. One day, when you're older, come and look for me. I'll be down the mountain under the trees and the grass. You remember what I told you about the grass, right, my love? Green. Just like my eyes. Remember that." She turned her head, resting her cheek against Twist's forehead. "I love you."

"I love you, Mother." Twist wanted this moment to last longer—the horrible memories certainly did—but something was happening. She could feel herself slipping away from this, this treasured memory, this terrifying memory, and back to the world.

Her eyes felt sticky, closed shut. The ground below her cheek was stony and freezing, leaching the warmth from her body. Around her, she could hear the soft cries of trapped cats, of hurt cats, of dying cats, and the soft shushing of paws in the thin grass so high above. She sensed another's presence above her, watching with eyes that burned like fire, and shuddered.

Then, Twist opened her eyes to the darkness.

* * *

**Hee~ I really did like writing this chapter. Now you all know why Twist is so messed up! : D**

**So I'm gonna go eat some ice cream now. XD**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	14. Chapter 14

**So my parents are about to move out of our old house and into a newer one, right, and we've been cleaning out the attic. Now, I'm not very good with attics for three reasons: height, heat, and cobwebs. I don't care if there are no spiders in them, I don't want to touch freaking cobwebs, right? So we got all the crap out of the attic and onto the ground and I went picking through it to find stuff. I found a whole bunch of hilarious books by such prestigious authors as Mickey Rooney and a lot on the JFK assassination, my Beanie Babies (it was a 90's thing, you see), and a 1/64th scale model of the Challenger shuttle, which is ripe with painful irony. **

**But the best thing by far was this ginormous stuffed alligator, which my parents had since before I was born. So I took him down, clean him off, sewed him and stuffed him again, and set out to show everyone how delightfully glorious and huggable he was. My mom now thinks I'm properly insane, my dad thinks it's stupid, and my brother laughed at me. The only one who appreciates it is Fwirl, who I picked up from school last Friday to go to the beach with, and she spent most of the ride hugging him. **

**Why am I telling you this, you may ask? I don't really know. XD**

**LegendaryHero - Well, you're just picky, aren't you? D: I swear one day, Legend, I'm totally gonna do three updates in one day just to PROVE YOU WRONG! HAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHA. Oh, did it pass 50K? :O And yeah, it's gonna go to 100K. So I can have three of them on that page. :D**

**A fallen tree - Heehee~ Thankies!**

**Crowstorm - Yeah, but that caused all the aaaaaangst! XD**

**Kitro Kat - Heehee~ One of those annoying cheerful people? :P**

**Bubblewhisper - Hooo~ Cool penname! And I'm glad you like this fic! :D**

**And onto the story!**

* * *

"This one," a soft voice murmured. "You say that she is strong?"

"Very," another voice assured him, but this one was recognizable: Snit.

Twist stayed very still at the bottom of the pit, eyes closed and motionless, praying that she wouldn't be noticed as awake. For the past day and a half, she'd laid in this pit that stank of fear and sickness. By the taste of the air, this one hadn't been used for awhile, but the thought of other cats lying down here, pressed to their bellies, was nauseating. If she'd had anything in her belly, she would have vomited again.

"She's not particularly tied to the Sliders," Snit went on. "She would make a good Claw."

For some reason, Twist imagined the last word as a name. The way that Snit said it was too reverent-sounding, it had to be.

The other cat made a noncommittal noise. "I will make that judgment."

She could imagine Snit dipping his head. "Of course, Master."

_Master. _Twist felt a surge of fear course through her veins. _This has to be the Rogue. By the stars, I'm hearing the Rogue's voice. He's this close._

"Tell me, how many of them do you intend to keep alive?" the Rogue asked, his voice calm and level and…familiar. Twist couldn't place where she'd heard it before, but the thought nagged at the edge of her mind as the conversation went on.

"What use are they to us dead?"

"You are letting your affections for those cats get in the way of the reason I myself impressed in you."

"I'm not," Snit said quickly. "And I don't have any affection for them."

"Bronze told me this one taunted you with a name. Audrey. She is nobody?"

"Nobody," Snit affirmed.

The other cat didn't make another word on the subject. "And these others… Will Lucky come for them?"

"I don't know," Snit admitted, and Twist could hear that there was a new kind of speculative quality to his voice. "Lucky's fond of the Sliders, true, but he hasn't shown any particular attachment to any of them. River—the red tom—is the one that led this patrol over here to try and kill you. The others came with him because they didn't agree with Lucky. There was a huge fight about it."

"So these are the traitors." The Rogue's voice had an edge of something close to pleasure in it. "Excellent."

"They might disagree with him, but they won't betray Lucky," Snit warned.

"They might not," the Rogue agreed easily. "But I thought the same of you."

"I have always been one of the Claws," Snit argued hotly. "I will _never_ be a Slider. Your concerns are for nothing."

"Of course, of course," the Rogue said distractedly. "Just remember that you are a highly valued member of this group. Never forget that."

"I won't." Snit's voice was quiet.

They left after that, their voices fading from the area, but Twist thought she could hear the dry rasp of thorns through fur as they went through the entrance tunnel.

In all the time she'd been here, she'd only ever heard them speak. This place was unbearably silent, cold and still, the only sounds coming from the raspy breathing of the cat in the pit next to her and the wind bending the brambles.

The pit itself was deep, maybe three or four times her height when she stretched onto her hindpaws, and looked utterly free of pawholds. She could see deep claw marks in the hard dirt walls from where others before her had tried to get free. Resting a paw on one of them, she shivered as the smell of blood blossomed from beneath her touch; this place was a horrible deathtrap.

She stood staring at her paw for a moment longer before dropping it and stepping away. She circled back to the center of the pit and began her pacing again. Already, a track was wearing in the stony ground; it had already been there, but her worrying had aggravated it into a clear path.

Twist couldn't just lie around: she needed to move, to think.

Patience was the only option right now. Patience would help her win out over this one. She could do it: she just had to be calm about it all.

The grass at the top of her pit rustled, and she glanced up, fear rising in her chest. _So much for being calm about it. _

A head poked in, light pouring in around its ears; Twist winced at the harsh light.

"You're the she-cat? Lightfoot?" the voice demanded.

"N-no," she said. "I'm Twist."

The cat grunted in surprise, then retracted his head. The leaves were pushed back over the hole and Twist was left in shadow again.

_What does he want with her? _she wondered, returning to her pacing. _Snit told them that Lightfoot wouldn't be of any use to them. They wouldn't kill her…would they?_

Her belly yowled with hunger, nearly doubling her over. She hadn't eaten for nearly two days; her last meal had been a measly mouse she'd split with Declan the morning of the patrol's start.

_Declan. _She closed her eyes and imagined him, thick red-brown fur with those tan markings around his eyes. Even though it was stupid and selfish, Twist couldn't help wishing that he was here with her. Two days apart after being together for so long was painful, and her chest ached from it.

_I wonder if he's looking for me, _she thought, staring miserably down at the ground. _I wonder if they've noticed we're gone. Will Lucky send out a search party for us?_

That was the main question. Would Lucky decide the lives of six cats were worth the risk to his own?

Twist closed her eyes, forcing the thought from her mind, and continued pacing.

Time passed, agonizingly slow, before the leaves above parted again. Looking up, Twist watched as a long, thick vine snaked its way down into the pit.

"Climb up." It was not a request.

For a heartbeat, Twist thought about ignoring it, about curling her lips and hissing at the rogues—the Claws—but she held her tongue. Digging her claws into the vine, Twist began to wrestle her way up. Feeling her weight on the vine, whoever was outside pulled back and yanked her all the way up.

She scrabbled for the edge, digging her claws into the hard soil, and heaved herself onto land, panting.

The cat in front of her was another mud-covered cat. "Come with me," he said in a clipped voice. "Don't try to run."

Twist, chest still heaving for breath, demanded, "Where are you taking me?"

"For a walk. It would do us no good if you died." He led her not through the entrance, but a back tunnel that led up to a stone wall. There was a small opening at the bottom, looking more like the entrance to a rabbit's hole than a place for cats. The tom stopped by it, nodding to the two guards who stood sentry outside of it, and said, "Enter."

"In there?" Twist's eyes widened.

The tom growled in response, low and throaty, and Twist hurried to obey.

It wasn't dark inside like she had expected it to be, but filled with sunhigh light. It flooded over the floor, highlighting the dimples in the ground from clawmarks, and threw the tiny, bleached white bones of prey creatures into sharp relief.

"Twist!" It was River. He ran to her side, one of his cheeks crusted with dry blood. Pressing his nose into her shoulder, he mewed, "I was worried that they'd killed you! You kept your head down, I hope."

"I did." She returned River's gesture with a fondness that surprised even herself. "I've been in there for so long."

"Almost two days, yes." His yellow eyes were sympathetic. "They've been trying to starve us into talking. About the Sliders, Lucky, everything." Then his eyes hardened a bit. "We don't have to worry for that anymore. All our secrets are out."

"Snit," Twist spat, making his name a curse.

"Snit," River agreed in a hard voice. "I would have never expected him. Of all cats, Snit!"

Twist looked away, pelt ruffling. "What do we do now?"

"Eat. You look starved. Here, they gave me this rat this morning. It's bony and dry but it's good meat. Please, Twist, eat." He pushed the scrawny thing over to her, and Twist thought she'd never seen anything so delicious.

She bit into it, savoring the feeling of meat sliding into her empty belly. "Why are we here? What is this place? Where's everyone else?"

"I don't know. I was brought here earlier this morning. Flint was here—he's okay, don't get that look—but he told me things of his time in the pits." His eyes darkened. "Beck is dead."

Twist felt her heart stop. "Dead?" she echoed.

"The rogues killed him because he put up a fight. He was a strong cat—loud-mouthed and arrogant, but strong. He was brave." River's voice rumbled into a growl, and he looked away, gaze flinty. "They will pay for what they've done."

Twist had no soft affections for Beck, but they'd travelled together, fought together. And now he was gone… It was too much to take in. She shook her head. "What about the others? Gravel? Lightfoot?"

"I don't know. I haven't heard from Gravel."

"They called for Lightfoot earlier today," Twist told him. "They thought she was me."

River looked startled. "You don't think they'd try to recruit her, do you?"

"Recruit?" The word was surprising. "Like get her to switch sides? Lightfoot wouldn't do that! She hates the Claws."

"Claws!" River echoed, eyes wide. "Is that what they call themselves?"

Twist's fur bristled and she looked away uneasily. "That's what I heard Snit say. To the Rogue."

And now River showed sharp white teeth. "The Rogue," he repeated softly. "He will _pay_ for this!"

Suddenly, Twist was tired. She was tired of all the talk of bloodshed and revenge when it was obvious that there was no way getting out of this. The thought hit her, strong and hard, that she wasn't going to see the Sliders again, never to see grass or the clear sky or the gleam of friendship and camaraderie cats' eyes ever again. Her eyes closed. Never to see Declan again either.

There was a scuffle of movement at the entrance to this bright place, and a muddy rogue poked his head in. "You, tom," he said, voice dead and emotionless. "Out. Your time is up."

River set his jaw and nodded. Turning to Twist, he said, "Goodbye. Keep up hope, young'un. This isn't over."

Twist watched him leave, startled. It was almost as if he'd read her thoughts.

She waited eagerly for the next cat to come in—maybe it would be Gravel or Flint—but no one came after. A rogue came to collect her shortly after, and led her back to her pit.

"Can you jump?" His voice was younger but had the same guarded affectations that the others had.

Twist nodded dully, looking down into the dark pit. While she'd been gone, some cat had come and cleaned it—removing the stink of death and decay—and had even laid some moss for bedding. She frowned. "Who—?"

"No questions." The tom moved closer, making her shy away from his close proximity, and she leapt down into the pit, hitting the ground softly. She looked back up and saw the cat move away, leaving one corner of the leaf-cover untucked, allowing a small beam of sunshine to slant down into the dark pit.

Twist looked up into it, unblinking, wondering what had changed in those few tense moments with River. The moss behind her smelled fresh and clean, as did the rest of the pit, which had somehow been swept clean of dirt and dust. Small pawprints dimpled the ground here, and she pressed her nose to them, trying to trace the scent. They smelled nearly odorless, with just a hint of crushed grass; the cat that had laid this moss had gotten it right out of the woods.

She sat back, confused by this sudden turn of events. What were the Claws trying to do with her? Soften her up with soft moss and free time with her friends just so they could wheedle some information out of her? Anger rose hot in her throat, and for a moment she considered shredding the nest all around this awful prison but she didn't. Whatever was going on, making herself uncomfortable for the sake of some kit-like satisfaction wouldn't help her in the slightest.

So she curled on her rogue-made nest and rested her chin on her paws, staring at the dull, dark side of the pit, wondering what was going to happen to her next.

Twist must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, the sunlight had dimmed overhead and something had fallen into the pit. For a moment, she was disoriented, expecting the warm scent of her box-nest back in the Warren until she remembered where she was: deep in the heart of enemy territory.

The thing that had dropped into the pit wasn't alive, she could tell, and the smell of warm blood was delicious. She hooked a paw around it, pulling it closer, and was rather delighted to realize it was a bird, full of good, fat meat. She bit into it at once, closing her eyes in bliss.

Then her eyes snapped open. She spit out the bird, her tongue curling in disgust as she felt the bitter, numbing tang of herbs coat her mouth.

Prying the bird's chest apart, she saw what she hadn't noticed before: sharp, serrated leaves mottled with dark coloration. And with a jolt of surprise, she realized she recognized this herb: sleepweed. Her mother had always given it to her whenever she wasn't feeling well; it made the entire body tired and made her paws feel like lead, helping her sleep.

But why would the Claws give her sleepweed?

_So they can force me to answer questions, _was her first thought, but why would they need her when they had Snit, who seemed more than willing to spy on the Sliders.

_Because they want to move me somewhere, _was the next, but they had already allowed her to climb up out of the pit to meet with River, for whatever hidden reason there was for that.

Then she was struck by another: _So they can bring me somewhere they don't want me to be able to find. _

Could that be it? Could the Claws be wanting to knock her out to take her someplace else? Somewhere she couldn't leave?

Twist stared down at the bird, and at the dark leaves that lined its ribs. They couldn't be trusted, she knew that as an obvious fact, but maybe…

Maybe she could play along and find out some new information.

Unsheathing her claws, she dug out the leaves from the prey, hiding them beneath the edge of her moss. She spread them out around the nest, hoping that their minty scent would be dulled by the grassy smell of the nest-stuff. Then she took several large bites of the bird—she winced against the slight taste of sleepweed, but she knew it wasn't enough to dull her senses.

After she'd swallowed the bites, she pushed the bird away and curled in the nest, closing her eyes. In case anyone was watching her, just out of sight, she yawned widely, curling her tongue and letting her whiskers bristle.

Even though she hadn't meant to fall asleep again, she did. It felt like her eyes had only been closed for a heartbeat or two before the leaves overhead rustled again.

The urge to open her eyes was overwhelming but she didn't. Keeping her ears relaxed was even more difficult, even as she heard a cat land next to her. It padded up on soft paws, and touched its nose to her muzzle, in a gesture that was far too intimate for her liking, but she could do nothing about it.

"She's out," the cat said softly, and it was a young male voice. "I can smell it on her breath." The cat dug his paws under Twist's belly and heaved her out of the nest, setting her down gently.

"Grab her and let's get this moving. We don't want him to be kept waiting."

_Could they be talking about the Rogue again? _Twist didn't, and she didn't like the idea of it.

Strong jaws caught her by the scruff and lifted her like a kit, and then she was swinging upwards, pulled along by the cat as he climbed the vine.

The air was fresher as the cat dragged her up and over the edge of the pit, setting her down for a moment to allow the other cat—the one with the deeper voice—pick her up again. She could feel that this cat must be larger, because when he lifted his chin, her paws didn't even brush the ground.

"Let's go," the smaller cat said, his voice tense, and they set off.

Twist felt the snag of brambles through her fur but didn't say anything. She was afraid to even breathe too loudly, less she alert the cat carrying her.

As they walked, the smaller cat kept up a steady stream of chatter. "I mean, what does the Master want with these she-cats? This one is too young for kit-bearing and the other is too wild to make a mate for anything but a dog fox."

"Perhaps he desires female Claws," the cat carrying Twist rumbled through his mouthful of fur. "A she-cat trained in killing is more vicious than a tom any day."

The other grumbled in disagreement. "I could take a she-cat. I'd best one in a fight."

Laughing, the carrier said, "That's doubtful, my friend. I doubt you could take on a rabbit; they're about your size, aren't they?"

"Oh, yes, ha ha, Sparrow. Let's all have a good long laugh. There's a reason they call me the Shredder!"

"For reasons other than the fact that you're insistent on that name?"

The Shredder harrumphed again and said nothing more.

Twist fought the urge to roll her eyes. Clearly idiots thrived in every gang.

"I remember your real name," Sparrow continued. "Let me see… Wasn't it Daffodil?"

"No!" The Shredder's voice was filled with horror. "No, it wasn't!"

"It was," Sparrow argued, relish in his voice. "It was. I remember."

"That was my _slave_ name!" the Shredder spat. "I'm free now! Free to serve the Master! Free to serve the Claws!"

"Yes," Sparrow murmured. "Free indeed."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, if you're serving the Master, doesn't that mean you're a slave?"

"No! It means you're brave! He'll lead us into wars for honor and respect! It'll be glorious!"

"Mm." Sparrow fell silent as he stepped around something—a fallen log or a stone—his steps light and controlled, not like the Shredder's wild trampling.

The simple noncommittal hum gave Twist hope: maybe cats here weren't happy with the Rogue's dealings. Maybe they would side with Lucky and go with the Sliders. Her heart beat again.

They walked a little more, with the Shredder continuing his kit-like bounding. Twist kept hearing little puffs of sand raising as he pounced onto the ground, probably worrying at with his teeth, tail flicking. She could imagine it in her mind—the Shredder looked a lot like her little favorite, Streak—and let a little satisfied purr rumble in her throat before she stopped herself right there, blood freezing in her veins.

_Are you a moron? _The thought crashed through her mind endlessly, and she couldn't believe herself. Of all the stupid things to do, surely purring in the presence of the enemy topped the list! She could have just given her position away—

"Did you hear that, Sparrow?" The Shredder's playfully arrogant tone was gone. He seemed all tension now, like a tightly stretched vine, and he asked, "I thought I heard a sound."

_Please, please, please, _Twist prayed. _Please let them ignore it. _

Sparrow made a grunting sound. Twist knew that the large tom had heard her, she knew it without a shred of doubt. It was only a second left before he would tell the smaller cat and then she'd be dead.

She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the deathblow.

"I didn't hear anything," Sparrow said, his voice indignant. "You're losing it, Daffodil."

"It's the Shredder!" the other cat spat, immediately losing track of the argument.

"Why does it have to be _the _Shredder? Why can't it just be Shredder?"

"The _the _is not optional! It makes the whole deal! Adding a _the _to a name just makes everything cooler. Like, _the _Sparrow. Doesn't that sound cooler?"

"No," Sparrow huffed. "It sounds stupid."

Twist let the breath she'd been holding in out through her nose softly. Her heart hammering in her chest, she couldn't help but wonder why Sparrow hadn't told his friend. The two seemed close—at least, as far as gangmates go—but why wouldn't he tell him?

_Maybe he didn't hear you, _the little voice in the back of her mind suggested.

_Maybe, _she found herself agreeing. _Maybe. _

"Where did he want this one again?" Now the Shredder spoke again, sounding confused.

"Close to the place," Sparrow said evasively. In the pause after his words, Twist wondered what they'd said without speaking. "So he can meet with her."

"She couldn't be the one he was talking about!" the Shredder hissed. "She can't be! She's a Slider!"

"Shut up, you moron!" Sparrow growled.

"Why?" he challenged. "She's out, isn't she?"

"Just shut up. You don't want anyone hearing all the rubbish you spew." He dropped Twist onto the ground; under her fur, she could feel that it was sandy and loose, and close by, she could hear the trickling of water.

"Here?" The Shredder sounded surprised.

"I'll take her the rest of the way. You get back to base."

He huffed. "I think that the Master asked me to help you."

"You want to go in there?" Sparrow laughed. "You wouldn't last!"

The Shredder made a sharp sound of indignation. "Whatever. If you get in trouble—"

"I won't," Sparrow said, smugly. "I'm marked, remember?"

Making a noise of disbelief, the Shredder seemed to accept this. "You were lucky to be marked. It's only because of your mother."

"You're just jealous that you aren't marked."

"I am not!" The Shredder let out a low growl before already stomping away. "Goodbye, Sparrow," he hissed.

Sparrow chuckled. "Goodbye, Daffodil!"

Twist heard the other cat's yowl of resentment.

Sparrow laughed again, softly under his breath, and asked, "Isn't he a riot?" There was a moment's pause in which Twist lay on the ground, motionless, and then Sparrow said, "You know, just for future reference, when you're faking being asleep, try not to hold your breath."

Twist opened her eyes. "I knew you noticed." Then she blinked.

Sparrow was a large dark brown tom, though not smudged with mud like the others. His eyes glowed two different colors, like Snit's: one blue and one yellow.

"You shouldn't have tried to defy the Master," he said.

"He's not my master!" she spat, trying to get to her paws but sinking back down when she noticed the thick sludge she was lying in. She snapped her head around the place; it was a narrow alleyway made of rushes, their heads bobbing along the slight breeze, and it was sandy to touch, save for the grassy place she was laying. "Where are we?" she asked, confused.

Sparrow looked at her, head to one side. "Like I'd tell you that. Please."

"Then why are you speaking to me now?" she hissed.

Now he looked genuinely surprised. "Why?"

"Yeah. Why?"

He didn't answer right away. Stepping lightly around her and stopping just past her shoulder so she had to turn her head to watch him, he flicked his tail and looked at her. Then he said, looking at her sidelong, "You knew what that plant was."

Twist bared her teeth at him. "So what?" she asked, between licking her paws clean of the grassy mud that plastered her fur; the bitter taste made her tongue curl.

Sparrow didn't answer. His eyes narrowed slightly. "You have to come with me."

"To where?" Then it struck her. "I could run away right now and you couldn't catch me."

He laughed. "Try it. Really. I'd love to see you try. Cats have tried before." His eyes slanted sideways at her. "They didn't get far."

Twist gritted her teeth.

"Don't make me chase you," he said, sighing. "It would work better if you just came of your own accord. The Master's already going to be angry with me."

"My heart bleeds for you."

"Mm. Snit was right."

_Snit. _Twist's blood boiled at the sound of the name, but she didn't say anything.

Sparrow was circling her again. "You are smart," he admitted. "But not smart enough, I don't think."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked angrily.

His expression turned a little more delighted. "You didn't notice, huh? Guess you really _are _from the mountains."

Twist's heart jolted with shock. "H-how did…did you know…" Her tongue felt thick and fuzzy then, and her head swam. Sparrow's form wavered in and out of focus. She tried to get to her paws but Sparrow gently pushed her back down.

"This is _our_ sleepweed," he said, his voice thick and distorted as if Twist had moss in her ears. "Goodnight, Twist."

* * *

**I wrote half this chapter one day and just finished it up today, so sorry if it feels a little out-of-whack. Also, ABNA's in full-swing now, so expect me to be whining about it a lot. About all the waiting until the first round, then the second, not to mention authors reading the pieces, and OH GOD ABNA OH GOD. -flails-**

**-takes deep breath-**

**-smiles-**

**I'm good! :D**

**You know what to do!**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hoooo. Tomorrow's the day, guys. ABNA round two. I really hope I make it, 'cause that will make me searchable on Amazon, and let's face it: that would be really frickin' cool.**

**It's like 12:42 and I'm tired, so I'm skipping review replies today. It doesn't mean I'm not grateful for your review or anything, 'cause I am, but I'm just a lazy bum. Sorry. Love you. XD**

**Anyway.**

**Here it is. XD**

* * *

***EDIT***

**Well, that was on Monday/Tuesday night. I don't know whaaaaat the heck happened with FFnet, but it decided not to work. At all. For NEARLY A WEEK. So this has been written and all but just not posted...yeah. XD **

**Anyway, um.**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

Declan sat high up in a tree, his tail dangling below him. It was raining and he was soaked, the water dripping off the ends of his whiskers, weighing them down. He went nearly crossed-eyed to watch, to see how they curled his whiskers under before flipping off.

In front of him spread the forest. He watched this, as he had for the past few days, hoping and praying with all his heart and spirit that Twist would walk out of the dense trees and back to him. So far, nothing had happened.

Lucky refused to take action, once again. "I am sorry," he had said, not sounding sorry at all. "The threat of the Rogue is not as high as the threat of the coming cold season. We must prepare things here so we are ready for it."

Declan had to be forced from the den by Viktor as he'd tried to claw the indifference off Lucky's face.

And now Declan was back up in the tree. His back and shoulders were aching from sitting for so long, and he was soaked to the skin, but he didn't move his tired eyes away from the forest path in front of him. So many times over the past few days had he tried to find the scent in the mud, a tuft of fur, anything to bring him to the end of the path. But it was no use. She was gone.

"Declan!" The cat called from far away. Probably in the Warren. Declan ignored it. He just wanted to be alone.

Viktor was probably looking for him. The older cat had taken Declan under his wing lately, trying to comfort him against the pain of losing Twist, but Declan would have none of it. He didn't want to be pitied. All Declan wanted was the right to go after his one and only true friend—a want that was denied by Lucky with only a few casual words.

Declan burned with anger. _I don't care whether Lucky agrees or not. I'll find her if it kills me._

There was a shifting of branches below him, and he pricked his ears in surprise.

"Here, I brought you this." Audrey shook out her thin, wet pelt. She nosed the rat over to him. "You haven't eaten in a while, have you?"

"I'm fine," he said coldly.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't take that tone with me. I'm only concerned about you."

"You shouldn't be. You should be worrying about the cats that are missing." But he took the rat anyway, biting deep into its juicy flesh—it was still warm.

Audrey made an unhappy sound. "I am concerned for them," she protested. "But there's nothing I can do. There wasn't anything anyone could do. Snit tried his hardest to get them—you know that."

"I know." Declan sighed heavily. He looked down at the rat trapped between his paws, his appetite suddenly gone. Sinking his claws into it, alternating paws, he thought back about the black-and-white tom. He'd stumbled into the Warren at sunrise that morning, bleeding from the side of his face and limping on one paw.

"Lucky," he had gasped. "Something terrible has happened!"

The cats in the perimeter—Viktor, his mate Kite, Gravel's lookalike Kent, Audrey, and Declan himself—had been gathered into Lucky's den quickly.

"Kite, please fetch Wisp," Lucky had said, his eyes and voice calm and neutral. "We need her healing expertise now that our medic is down."

Snit had collapsed to the ground, favoring a paw. "No, I don't need help," he had mewed quickly. "I'm fine."

"You need aid," Lucky had said gently. "Please, allow me to view the damaged area."

Snit had flattened his ears. "No."

Declan had stepped forward. "Don't be ridiculous," he had said. "Let us help you. Come on, it's only going to hurt for a moment."

Snit, ears still pressed against his head, had locked eyes with Declan in a swift, searching gaze, then lowered his head. He had held out a paw.

"What's going on?" Wisp had just arrived. She had swept over to Snit's side, pressing her nose against his flank; Kite had flown back to Viktor's side. "What happened here?"

"Snit went to try and track down the missing cats," Viktor said dispassionately. His tail flicked behind him. "You were stupid to do that. What were you thinking? You could have been taken, too! You could have been killed!"

"I know," Snit agreed miserably. He had dropped his gaze to the ground, rubbing the blood that dripped from his nose with one paw. "I couldn't help it. They're my friends. I had to go."

Declan's heart squeezed. Why did Snit of all cats have to take the initiative? The first strike? It made him feel worse than dirt to think that he'd just wandered around with Viktor and Iggy when he should have gone right into the heart of the woods and found her himself. His eyes burned as he thought about it.

Lucky didn't seem fazed. "You were right to come back when you could, Snit," he said calmly. "Did you happen to find anything out on the position of the Rogue? Or when he intends to release my cats back to me?"

"No," Snit said. "I was jumped by a bunch of his ragged-pelted rats. They caught me off-guard. I barely got away with my life."

Audrey made soft, strained sound. Declan looked over and watched as she stood stiffly, her whiskers trembling.

_She won't go to him,_ Declan thought. Audrey wouldn't try and show any sort of weakness in this situation, even though she was obviously aching to go to Snit's side. Especially not in front of Lucky.

Lucky flicked his tail, eyes slanted to the side. Then they fixed on Declan; in that moment, Declan thought that the mysterious leader of the Sliders could see right through him with those dark, dark eyes like empty tunnels. There was no light in them, barely an edge of amber to the overwhelming blackness.

And Declan was afraid.

Back in the tree, Audrey made an impatient sound. "Are you coming back home now?"

"That's not my home." Declan let the rat's half-eaten body fall to the ground with a thump. Audrey watched this with distaste but said nothing. "I don't have a home. I left my home behind. Now, my home is wherever Twist is."

Audrey chuckled. "That's very romantic."

"I don't see how," Declan said, his voice irritated. "It's not romantic at all; it's dedicated. Twist and I are tied together now. We're friends. Best friends."

"And, what, you're obsessed with her?" Audrey's voice sounded dry.

Declan cleared his throat significantly and she fell silent. Dropping to the ground, she kicked dirt over the rat's body with her hind legs.

"What a waste," she muttered, but Declan didn't think she was talking about the rat. She went back into the Warren without looking behind her.

Declan watched her go, belly twisting and writhing like adders. Then his eyes fell to the rat, half-buried under a layer of grit. What if Twist didn't have that kind of food? She didn't weigh that much in the first place—who knew what they were feeding her. Were they treating her properly? He couldn't imagine Lucky allowing cats to torture each other, no matter what side of the territory they were from. What if they were beating her, scratching up her beautiful dark pelt with their vicious claws?

Declan's own claws curled into the damp bark of the tree. If they touched her—a single hair on her pelt—he would take care of them. Despite his pet origins, Declan knew how to use his claws—he was taught that a long time ago, far before he had met Twist or the Sliders.

It had been when he was a kit, barely old enough to get around on his own. He'd been living with a mated pair of housefolk who had another cat, a tom named Leo. He was bigger and older that Declan and picked on him often, shoving him around and taking his food. Leo called himself Declan's older brother, a title that stuck with him for the rest of his life. Even now, he thought, settling himself on the branch, he believed he had referred to Leo once or twice to Twist, and both times he'd called him his brother.

Leo was a chubby yellow-furred cat with runny yellow eyes and a crusty nose. He was getting on in years and was far too overweight for his own good. Declan was small and quick, and it was easy for him to dodge Leo's ever-heavier paws. He learned how to get food for himself, stealing from the housefolks' supplies of cat treats and food called bread—which was tough and barely palatable but he ate it anyway—until he grew strong, stronger than Leo, and far smarter. His muscles were powerful, capable, just like his quick wit. He could outsmart Leo whenever he wanted to.

"You'll be here long when I'm gone, little brother," Leo would say as he lounged on the sofa, claiming the extra-soft spot for his ample frame. "With these people. Lucky for you. Good on you, buddy. Then, when you're old and comfortable with your place in the world, they'll bring in some tattered rat of a kitten and force you to interact with it. And believe me, little brother, that is not a job to be taken lightly. But look at you." He laughed, a strange, harshly fond sound. "I raised you well. You're tough. I see the cynicism in your eyes. I like it."

"I'm not like you," Declan argued. "I won't be. I'm not a slimy fleabag like you."

Leo's eyes sharpened in a way that automatically made Declan flinch. But he didn't step back, like he normally would. "You better bite that tongue, little brother," he warned in a growl. "Or I'll have to teach you how to respect your elders. Everything you are, everything you have, belongs to me. I gave you what I wanted to give you, and I can take it away just as easily!"

"You won't!" Declan said bravely, puffing out his chest arrogantly. "You won't. You can't. You're far too old and fat to do anything about it! I'd like to see you try! Come on, Leo—big brother—let's see how fast you can move on those paws!"

Leo growled low in his throat. Then, he gathered his legs beneath him and sprang, covering the distance between them in one short bound.

Leo's teeth connected in Declan's scruff before he could dodge. Yowling fiercely, Declan jerked backwards, leaving the older cat with just a mouthful of red-brown fur, then attacked in the same instant. But this was no simple play, no bats or swipes. This was cold and hard and vicious.

Declan dug his claws into Leo's thick back fur, heaving himself up on top of the old cat. From this position, he pulled back his paws, lifting Leo's body from the ground for a moment before letting it slam back.

Leo hissed, his breath foul in Declan's face. "You better get off me," he snarled. "I won't show you any pity, runt!"

Declan laughed, loudly, to rile him. "Come on, then," he taunted, flicking his tail to motion Leo forward. "I'm done with you picking on me. I'm finished with your threats. Let's end this right now. One cat is going to come out on top, and it's not you. It's me. And then you'll treat me with some respect!"

Now it was Leo's turn to laugh, a wheezy, lopsided sound. "You're pathetic," he spat. "You think that you can beat me? Please. You're just a kit."

"I'm more than a kit!" Declan hissed, back arched. "And you didn't teach me anything. I taught myself."

Leo cocked his head sharply to the side, eyes beady and watchful. Then he simply sat up and pushed Declan off him. When he rose to full height, every hair on edge and a fierce snarl rising in his throat, Leo just brushed him aside. "Fine. You're right. You're old enough to do what you want." He bent his head, inclined it just so, and walked away, tail in the air. Then he stopped, turning to lick a line of scratches on his shoulder. "Your strength is growing. Good job." He continued on his way to one of the back rooms, leaving Declan there with a heaving chest, fighting for breath.

Declan was older now, of course, and much more directed with his anger. Leo, for all his many, many faults, had taught him how to use his anger—not the hot, furious kind but slow and cold and calculating. It was all about patience. And as much as he fought with it, an internal struggle that he had to beat back with claws sharper than blackthorns, Declan knew he had to wait. And he would do it. For himself. For his sanity. But mostly for _her._

The Warren was full of activity, like usual, when Declan reentered. Wisp and Lucky were talking together under the edge of the main tunnel, their voices hushed. They both looked up when Declan walked by. Wisp's yellow eyes glittered.

Lucky just stared calmly. Lucky. Always calm. Always collected. Always infuriating. Declan wished sometimes that he could go up to the leader of the Sliders and _break _him, snap him between his strong paws like a dry broken stick and leave him there, watching him in agony with the same kind of stony serenity that Lucky used.

Sometimes, Declan thought, he was not a very nice cat.

But he didn't do that. He nodded to Lucky, who barely inclined his head back, and walked past him, under the tunnels and around the box-nests, to where the wide, deep cavern of a healing den was.

As he'd predicted, Audrey was already there. Her voice was raised, and Declan followed the sound to one of the back dens.

"You could have been killed!" she was scolding, fury palpable as heat. "You could have died! And then what? I would have been here all by myself!"

"I hadn't thought that far ahead," Snit said softly, placating. "Come on, Audrey, it wasn't a big deal. It was just one time—"

"It wasn't!" she yowled. "This is a recurring trend for you, Snit! You always disappear off into the woods for days and days and I cover for you! I always do! And you never thank me."

"Yes I do."

"No you don't. Not even once. If it wasn't for me, Lucky would be twice as suspicious of you than he already is!"

There was a sudden, tense silence.

"What did you just say?" Snit asked.

"You heard me." Declan could imagine the ginger she-cat wriggling uncomfortably. "I wasn't supposed to tell you. Lucky asked me not to."

"Lucky did? What did he say exactly?"

"I'm not telling you! You're stupid and selfish and manipulative! I'm done with you, Snit. Don't expect me to cover for you again. I'm through."

"Come on, don't say that…"

Audrey scoffed. "It's true. You put me through too much. I've had it."

Snit scoffed, and in the shadows on the wall, Declan could see him turn his head away sharply. "Fine. Do what you want, Audrey."

"I will. For once."

"Whatever."

Audrey stayed there for a moment, and Declan could nearly taste the tension in the air. Then she swept from the room without a backwards glance, not even noticing Declan as he stood in the entryway to Snit's cave. Her face was black with anger.

Snit watched her go with emotionless eyes. Then he turned to Declan. "Eavesdrop much?" he asked sourly.

"I had a question for you."

Snit rolled his mismatched eyes. "Yeah, okay. Get in line."

Declan frowned. "Don't be mad at me. I haven't done anything to you."

Snit glared at him for a heartbeat, then looked at the ground. "Your question?"

_So he really does have a heart, _Declan thought. "I want to know about how you got those injuries." He lifted a paw to his own cheek to gesture.

Snit looked surprised. "Fighting rogues."

"What rogues?"

"I don't know. The Rogue's cats. I couldn't tell; it was dark and they all had dark pelts."

"No markings?"

"No."

"No scent?"

"Mud. They were covered in mud."

"You couldn't hear their voices? Where were you?"

Snit looked to the cavern wall. "Why does it matter?" he asked bluntly. "You won't get them back. They're all already dead."

His words, carelessly devoid of emotion, set Declan's blood racing with fury. "No they aren't," he snarled.

Snit looked almost sympathetic as he turned back to him. "Look. I've been here a lot longer than you. I know how things go. You think this is like Max? Well it's not. That was a special case. Whenever the Rogue takes a cat, they never come back. No one knows what he does with them. Maybe they join his cats. Maybe he kills them and uses their pelts as bedding. Who knows."

A swift, vivid image of a huge cat's silhouette perched on a nest made of Twist's dark fur crossed Declan's mind. He felt sick. "But you must have gotten close to their hideout. You ran into his cats." Declan hated how desperate he sounded.

Snit seemed to pick up on that. He sighed heavily, looking down at his paws. He seemed to be weighing something in his mind, because when he spoke again his words were a little uneven. "Just let her go. It'll be best that way."

Declan felt a sick pit form in his stomach. "No."

Snit looked irritated now. "Why do you care so much?" he demanded. "She's just some random she-cat. You only knew her for a moon, right? Let her go."

"No! Would you let Audrey go?"

With a little sardonic chuckle, Snit said, "That's different. Audrey and I have been gangmates forever. Much longer than you and Twist. Probably longer than the two of you have even been alive."

"It doesn't matter!"

"It does. Move on already."

"I won't. I won't stop at trying to find Twist until I die. I don't care about anything else. I don't have a family to go home to. I don't have any brothers or sisters, or a mate and kits. All I have now is her. I can't abandon her. She needs me."

"You need her," Snit corrected.

Declan scoffed. "So what if I do? I'm not stupid enough to deny it like you are."

Snit's eyes flashed. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said coldly.

Laughing without humor, Declan waved him down with a paw. "Right, right."

Now Snit looked angry. "Look, Declan. You're not cut out for this life. I can tell. You have a softness in your heart that you just can't toughen up. That works for housecats, but not for Sliders. We're made of different stuff than you. We were born for this life. We were born to fight and kill and take land, shedding blood of enemies, protecting kits and the weak. We were born to live here, together, working and building and living. What were you born for? Sitting at home with your no-pelts, drinking stale water out of a metal bowl, getting your ears rubbed by those stinking hands. So why don't you go back there and leave all the hard work for the real cats?" When Declan was silent, he continued. "You know why we live in metal pipes? Why we use them? Because we're just like that, Declan. Hard and cold and resilient. Our strength is more than muscle—it's blood. The strength of that metal runs in our veins. You're far too soft for this life. Go home. And if you're smart, you'll stay there this time."

Declan listened to Snit's words, which weren't Lucky's calm, sedate words—they were raw, like Snit had cut open a vein to say them. Powerful.

But Declan couldn't listen. "I will find the Rogue whether you help me or not," he said, trying to keep his voice level. "I can't give up now. Please, Snit. Help me. All you need to do is tell me where you were. I'll work from there. I can't leave her out there to die. Please, Snit. _Please_."

Snit was watching his paws again. When he looked up, there was something in his eyes, something that wasn't there before. "Declan, I'd be lying if I said I didn't like you. You're a strong cat. You've got a warm heart. But," he said, and now there was an edge in his voice, "you must listen to me. The safest place for you is in with no-pelts. This is not a place for a cat like you. I don't mean that insultingly—it's the truth. Leave here and don't come back."

Declan scoffed, his fury reigniting. "Fine. I understand." He turned and stalked away, tail stiff and bristling. He knew he was stupid to try to coax reason out of Snit. The black and white tom clearly had his own agenda—whether or not it was true he was looking out for Declan was another matter entirely. He seemed to be hiding something, but Declan had no time or patience to find out. He would find Twist—and all the other cats in that patrol—by himself.

_Stupid Twist, _he thought, agonized. _Why didn't you listen to me? You shouldn't have gone on that patrol!_

"Declan, wait!" Snit called back for him.

Declan almost didn't turn around, fighting the urge to walk away and ignore him, but his curiosity got the better of him.

Snit's eyes were wide. "I'll tell you," he said breathlessly. "Where I was. But you have to promise me you won't tell anyone else. And you have to go alone."

"Okay," Declan agreed instantly. "Tell me."

Snit shifted his weight from side to side, his jaw working as if he was chewing something. Then he said, "The brook. It was by the brook. If you go along the back of our territory, along the edge, you'll find it. There's a bend in the river that makes a sandy island in the middle. I was there when I was attacked. It must be close to their stronghold." He lowered his head. "Be careful. Don't let anyone see you."

"I won't." Hope soared in his chest like a bird. "Thank you, Snit."

Snit looked away. "Forget about it. Really. Don't say I didn't warn you. You can still go home."

But Declan was already racing out of the cavern, diving under the pipe and rushing up the path, knocking several cats out of the way. Lucky and Wisp were gone when he got to the entrance so he managed to get out of the Warren without detection—not even by Iggy, who was on sentry again, but was dozing lightly in the sunlight that streamed in through the tattered storm clouds.

Declan skirted the edge of the Warren until he got behind it, then followed the path Snit had told him. _That's strange, _he thought, sniffing the ground. _There's no scent of any cat back here. And I'm pretty sure that Twist and the others went the opposite way from here…or at least off at a different angle. Why would Snit be over here anyway? There's nothing back here!_

He found the brook and followed it, nose to the ground. He couldn't detect a trace of scent other than grass, dirt, and a bit of mouse. Even the smell of the housefolk-place was muted here, barely noticeable.

His suspicion grew. _He probably just sent me out here to get rid of me, _Declan thought with a huff. _He knew I wouldn't take no for an answer so he sent me on a race around the forest for nothing. I'll have plenty to say to him when I get back, wasting my precious time like this. Idiot._

Something parted the water up ahead and Declan saw the island. It wasn't big, maybe enough for five cats to stand on shoulder-to-shoulder, and it was made of the same wet, soggy gray silt that edged the banks. His bodyweight made him sink deep into it, the mud pooling up between his toes. He wiggled in it, feeling it suck at his paws.

Declan frowned down at it. It was impossible to even stand here, let alone fight. Not to mention the complete lack of scent—the smell of brook water was all around, bitter and slightly mossy. There were no footprints.

His teeth gritted. "Worthless old cat," he spat. "Trying to—"

Something snapped behind him.

He whirled, every sense on alert. It had sounded like a stick breaking, maybe from a fox or a heavy rabbit.

Or a cat.

Declan's heart began to pound in his chest, thumping against the insides of his ribs. He jerked his head in every direction, his eyes slicing through the undergrowth. No one was around, not that he could see, and that bitter water-smell was sharp and clogging in his nostrils, forcing out any other informative scent. He took a step backwards, then another, and another.

Something was wrong. He could feel it like a charge in the air before lightning strikes. His lungs ached from trying to breathe in the smells of the area.

Then something twitched in the bushes. His eyes snapped to it, but there was still nothing. Surely the storm-darkened sky would still allow him to see into the bushes?

"So you are the tom." The voice came from behind him. Declan whirled to see the speaker, a broad-shouldered dark tabby. He was standing on the beach on the far side, casually, with his tail curled over his back.

"Who are you?" Declan demanded. He spread his paws to fight for a firmer grip but the mud sucked him down a little more. He didn't move, not even a whisker-width: he didn't want this newcomer to detect anything amiss.

The cat put his head to the side, letting a thin ray of sunlight hit his face. Like Snit, his eyes were two different colors: one a deep, dark amber and the other a piercing blue the color of the cold-season's sky. He didn't answer the question. "My favorite captive talks about you all the time. Apparently, you are quite the fascinating cat. Declan."

The familiarity in the tone of the cat's voice made Declan shiver. "Who are you talking about?" he hissed. "No one knows me…" His voice died in his throat as the realization made the ground jerk beneath his paws, crushing the breath from his lungs. _No. No, this can't be right. No! NO!_

The cat looked nearly delighted. "Ah. So it is true."

Whatever anger he had felt toward Snit earlier now sparked into a sweeping, murderous fury. "What did you do to her?" he growled as he sunk his head below his shoulders, his voice a deep and guttural sound, not even natural.

"Nothing."

"Liar!"

"It is true. Nothing yet. She is a strong cat, isn't she? Your Twist." His voice was light and almost lilting.

"Let her go!"

"Mm." The tom put his head to the side. "No. That simply will not do. But I can give you one better." His eyes glinted with amusement. "Are you ready?" He straightened, flicking his tail up over his back.

From either side poured dark-pelted cats, their sides streaked flat with mud and crusted dirt. Six of them, strong toms, rushed past the cat and leapt over the bank with one smooth motion, hitting the water with a splash.

Declan dug his paws into the silt, readying himself for an attack. He bared his teeth, making sure his fangs were visible, and hissed.

The first cat hit him right in the chest. Declan ripped his paws free from the mud and slashed his claws down his side, feeling the rip of fur and spurt of blood as he hit skin. The cat yowled, but another had already taken his place, grappling for a grip on Declan's throat. Declan let the cat come, shying to the side and snapping his teeth closed with a metallic click onto the cat's ear. He bit deep into the thin skin, pulling away and taking some of the ear with him.

The cat screamed, its pain quickly converted into fury, as it charged him again, this time catching a grip on Declan's thick fur.

Its fellows piled onto Declan, pushing him into the mud, forcing the mud into his mouth, his eyes, his ears. It choked him, the bitter taste coating his tongue in a layer of foul-tasting grit. He gagged.

They held him down. He'd managed to wound three of the six, but the uninjured cats were far stronger than him. They forced his muzzle deeper into the ground, sending the mud up his nose.

The leader of the bunch padded lightly down to bank as his cats dragged Declan over, spitting and hissing, through the water and up onto the bank, where they dropped him like a wet bundle of moss.

Coughing from the water in his lungs, Declan knew he was beaten. As the water dripped down into his eyes, making them sting and turning the world fuzzy, he choked out, "Who…who _are _you?"

And the cat, with his mismatched eyes, bent down and whispered in Declan's ear, "Why, friend, don't you know? I am the Rogue."

* * *

**Yaaaaaaaay. The Rogue. Hurray. -kazoo plays-**

**Hopefully my enthusiasm is catching. XD**

**Okay. Um.**

**Loveyoulaterbye.**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	16. Chapter 16

**So this chapter is really short and really, really crappy. Like, I don't even have the energy to fix it because the overwhelming power of its suck is like dividing by negative one: It would create a world-ending, all-encompassing black hole of really horrible crappiness. I've had a pretty bad couple of weeks. Like, my guinea pig I've had for six years died, my exams were nail-bitingly nervous-making, and I had to move all the furniture out of my room so now it's like _The Shining_ all up in here with the echoey walls. All I need is a typewritter and a whole lot of crazy and I'm sure I'll snap like a dry twig bent too far. **

**But I digress.**

**Um. Right. Reviewer replies.**

**Queen of Pens - We all have our moments. XD**

**Spiritfollow - Heya, new reviewer! Thanks for reaaaaaaaadin'~ Oh? Another Twist-rememberer? LET US UNITE! -raises fist joyously-**

**LegendaryHero - Uhh, less than that. The past chapter was like, the next day, I think. I tried to make it seem more...flashbacky. I guess it failed. XD It's probably been about two months since the last update, right? I can't even remember and I'm too lazy to look. XD**

**Mintheart - Here ya go, then! :D**

**Crowstorm - Hee~ Read and find ouuuuut~**

**Amazingly awesome person - It's like layers within layers! Like an onion! XD**

**Anonymous Skrtle - Hee~! I'm glad you like it!**

**Blazingstar of ThunderClan - Really? I do hate writing fight scenes; I always think that I'm overdoing it or it's too melodramatic or, like, it's repetitive. Guess it's okay, though! XP**

**Hopefeather - Oh, no problem! Please, critique this story however you want. Improvement rises from correction, anyway! :D**

**Kitro Kat - And now you don't have to wait anymore!**

**Sunfeather - ALRIGHTY THEN! :D**

**Feather's little sister - Thanks! And the next chapter is coming out right now! Cool how that works, right? **

**Anyway. That should take up enough to make it like a normal-length chapter. I never realized how many people read this. It's kind of really happy-making. Thank youuuuuuuuuu~! Don't judge me for this horrible chapterrrrrr~**

**And onto the story!**

* * *

Twist awoke groggily, blinking open the layer of grit that pressed her eyelashes together. Her head was pounding in time with her heartbeat, filling her ears with the dull thuds, like paws on the clear-stuff of a no-pelt house.

She wasn't in the pits again—thank the stars—but a deep, rounded cavern. Heaving herself to a sitting position, she looked around, taking in the cold sound of echoes bouncing off of the curved ceiling, the smell of stone—wet and mossy in this case; they must still be close to the river—and the feel of the earthy, rich soil beneath her paws. The air was strange here; blinking several times, she noticed that the walls almost seemed to be…shimmering.

She curled her claws into the ground. Strange, she thought, that the ground would be so adept for growing plants and still be in a cave.

"You're the she-cat?" a voice rasped.

For the first time, Twist noticed the tiny gap—really more of a chink in the stone—between the ceiling and the wall at the very back of the cavern. She couldn't see past the thick curtain of moss and weeds that hung in front of the gap, but the cat's voice was indisputably coming from behind it. "Who's there?" she demanded.

"Calm down," the cat said, and his voice was like rocks grinding together. It was a rough, gritty sort of voice, like he hadn't spoken in moons. "There's nothing to fear. I won't hurt you."

"Who are you?" she hissed, back arched. She pressed back until her tail brushed against the wall. Strangely, it was sharp against her skin, pushing her fur aside. She shot a glance at it quickly before turning back to the tom.

"I've been here a long time. A prisoner. The Claws got me. This place is my dungeon. I've been here for so long."

Twist didn't relax. "Your name?"

"I don't remember it."

Twist scoffed. "Right."

"I wish I was joking." He sounded wistful. "Tell me, have you seen the sun?"

"Not in the past days," she spat. "I've been here. They moved me today. Poisoned me with some kind of plant."

"What did it look like?" the tom questioned.

"It was green. A paste. And it tasted horrible, bitter and sour and gritty."

"Yes," he said wisely. "I've heard of that plant. It grows around here and the Claws have made good work of changing it into a weapon to use on their enemies. It is unfamiliar to the cats that they go against. The one in charge here is very smart."

"The Rogue?" She gasped. "Have you seen him?"

"Not in many, many days. He does not often come around these parts."

"How is this different from the pits?" she asked, looking around once again. It must be close to dawn, because she could smell the day warming up outside. The smell of the river was more pungent here than in the pits, perhaps because they were closer. The river could be an easy way to escape without anyone noticing or scenting her.

"I don't know. The pits are far from here. The master doesn't like to keep all the prisoners together. Not until they've gone through the Cleansing."

"I already went in the water," she said, confused.

The tom let out a humorless, rusty laugh. "Not like that. It's a process. A technique they use to convert their enemies."

"Have you seen it? Has anyone? What about my friends? Where would they be? Here? The pits? The main part of their camp?"

"The Claws don't really have a camp. I told you, it's all broken up into sections. This is the riverside section. You were in the center. The master likes to keep himself on the side closest to where the Sliders live. Or so they tell me," he added in an afterthought.

"Who?"

"The ones who enter this room."

"What _is _this room?"

"You'll find out soon," he said cryptically. "If they allow you to remain here."

"Instead of killing me?" she asked sharply.

"They wouldn't kill you. They have plans for the ones they've captured." He cut off suddenly, with a hissing recoil. "Enough now. I hear them coming. Stay low. Don't try and fight. It'll work out better for you that way, I assure you."

Twist stared at the gap in the wall for a moment longer before she heard the padding of heavy paws. She flew to the back wall, scraping her claws down the thick tangle of ivy, wondering again how life could grow in this dark cave. She spun around when the cat walked in.

It was Sparrow again, this time with a small ginger tabby tom who had a fluffy ruff of fur between his ears, making him look like a fledgling bird.

"Hello," Sparrow said.

Twist recoiled with a hiss, baring her fangs.

Sparrow's companion huffed, tossing his head. "I thought you said she was peaceable," he grumbled.

Twist recognized him at once. _That's the Shredder. He's the one who came with Sparrow to take me here in the first place._

"Look, Twist, we have to work some things out. You see, we are very interested to hear about all of your escapades up in the mountains," Sparrow said.

"Well, the master _would _be," the Shredder corrected him. "If he wasn't otherwise occupied."

Sparrow glared at the smaller cat sharply. "Yes. Let's announce all our plans to the new inductee."

_Inductee? _Twist blinked.

The Shredder put back his small ears. "Yeah, yeah," he said, yawning. "I get it. Pick on me. It's okay, I understand. You're just jealous of my good looks."

"Looks that would be better if you were marked. Oh wait, you're not."

"It's not my fault I wasn't marked! You were only marked by luck!" The Shredder puffed himself up indignantly, eyes gleaming fiercely.

Sparrow just laughed him off. "You rile up too easily."

Twist looked between them uncertainly—and suspiciously. Could this be another trap? Something else that the Rogue and his murderers had planned to trick her? The thought made her pelt crawl.

The Shredder caught her expression. "What?" he demanded sharply. "It wasn't my call! The powers that be want you to be inducted into our society." He huffed, turning his head away. "If I was her, I wouldn't have let you. You're not even marked!"

"Inducted?"

The Shredder went to speak but Sparrow threw his tail across the smaller cat's mouth. "Come with us, Twist."

She started. "No way!" she hissed, backing up even further against the back of the cave. She bared her teeth. "You've already done enough horrible things to me! I don't trust you! Do you think I'm a moron?"

"Yes," the Shredder said.

She snarled at him.

Sparrow sighed, closing his eyes. When he opened them, those mismatched eyes, he said, "Look. I get that you don't like us. I'm sure Lucky"—the word curled bitterly on his tongue—"has told you a whole bunch of rubbish about us."

"He didn't have to! I've seen how you treat cats around here! The Sliders don't do that! We don't treat even enemies the way you've treated me! And that cat up there, too! He hasn't seen the sun in moons, he tells me!" She jabbed her tail the direction of the roof, where the cleft in the rock winked with the reflection of light on eyes.

The Shredder and Sparrow exchanged a glance, weighted with something Twist picked up on but couldn't distinguish.

"Come on now, Twist," Sparrow said eventually, stepping towards her. When she recoiled sharply, as if an adder had slithered forward, he took a new approach. Backing up several steps, he allowed light to stream in past him. She narrowed her eyes against it, hissing. "I'll just lead you there," he suggested. "You can follow. Don't try to run away, though, or I'll have to hurt you. And I don't want to have to hurt you, Twist."

Twist shivered. This cat, like all the others, appeared strange to her, foreign, like he wasn't even a cat. Something coiled in her belly like a snake weighing her down. She didn't trust these cats. She didn't trust anyone. Not the Sliders—who had not apparently planned a rescue mission for her or the others—and definitely not the Rogue's cats. The Claws seemed like a bunch of savages, monsters in the shape of cats. She hated them poisonously.

But what other option did she have? She could stay here in this cave and starve to death. Or she could follow Sparrow and his little fluffy rat of a companion. Sniffing discreetly, she could smell the healthiness of these two cats. They obviously came from somewhere that had plenty of food and comfort. Their ribs weren't even showing, a feat that both the Sliders and Twist's old gang couldn't manage easily.

"Come on, Twist," Sparrow said again.

And, narrowing her eyes and feeling the fur along her spine spike up, Twist followed.

1

Sparrow led the way out of the cave confidently, his large paws dimpling out a clear path to Twist, who had her head bent against the harsh sunlight. Judging from the strength of the burning, she reckoned that it was about the middle of the day—and by the yowling of her belly, she had been unconscious since the previous night. The strength of her hunger overtook her, nearly making her double-over. The last time she'd eaten had been that prey loaded down with sleeping herbs. Even the sparse grass on the ground looked appealing: anything to line her empty belly.

But she could fight through it. She'd been hungry many times before, more agonizingly than this. This was fine. She could bear it.

The ground below turned slowly sandy and loose, making her paws sink every so often. In the air, she could taste the tang of water, and the wind blew coolly across her burning pelt. The grass that she had noticed turned healthier, longer and greener, swaying in the breeze. She furrowed her brow at it. She'd never seen such grass before.

The Shredder, who had been walking stiffly in obvious discomfort, noticed her looking. He scoffed. "It's like you've never been near the water."

Sparrow, alerted by his companion's voice, turned around. "We're approaching the base now," he explained. "We'll have to cross the water. Can you swim, Twist?"

The nightmare of falling down the mountain cliffs with Declan, pelt loaded with red ants, filled her vision. "No."

The Shredder cackled. "Can't swim!" he exclaimed. "How do you get to your base?"

Twist almost answered. Then she realized that they—like the Sliders—might not know where their enemies' camp was. "I just never learned," she deflected lamely.

Sparrow and the Shredder shared another loaded glance, making Twist's anger spike again.

_Calm down, _she told herself, following the two Claws as they pushed through the thickening grass. _Stay calm and you can get out of this. You don't need to bring any suspicion to yourself. Just be calm, be cool. Don't say anything unless you have to._

The ground softened to thick, gray mud. Twist shook her paws in disgust as the other two plowed right into it, up to their chests in the mess. With a curled lip, she followed, sinking down almost immediately.

The mud squished its way up her nose and mouth, filling her mouth with its bitter taste. She gagged but that only forced it deeper into her fur. It seeped into her pelt, soaking her almost immediately.

Sparrow must have noticed her struggling. His teeth gripped her scruff as he yanked her out with an enormous sucking sound. He dropped her unceremoniously on the ground, shaking his pelt out. Thick drops flew through the air, spattering the white sand on the other side.

Twist panted on the ground, retching from the horrible taste of the mud.

The Shredder nosed her back to her paws, stepping aside when she clumsily shook herself. The motion was too weak to do much more than tire her further.

_This must be why they made their camp here, _she thought.

"Let's get going, Twist." Sparrow pushed her forward again and they were off.

They padded in silence for awhile longer. Every step forced weariness deeper into Twist's muscles, pressing into her bones. Her eyes were heavy from a simultaneous tiredness of body and mind. Whatever plant they had used on her dried her tongue like a cool-season leaf and filled her brain with a buzz that had not stopped. It pounded behind her eyes, muffling in her ears.

"Halt!" The voice was so sharp that it made Twist wince. The cat stepped out of his shelter, a curiously-constructed thing of sticks and leaves that blended into the nook of a tree. She looked at his eyes to detect the mismatched eyes she'd come to expect but his were both a normal amber.

"Calm down, it's Sparrow. And the Shredder. And a prisoner." Sparrow sounded like he was checking off a mental list.

The guard relaxed. "He knows about this?"

The Shredder made an exasperated sound. "Of course, you moron!" he said derisively. "We wouldn't bring her here otherwise!"

The guard looked annoyed about being talked to like that but said nothing more. He stalked back to his shelter and pressed himself inside it. Only his eyes gleamed in the darkness.

"Wait," Sparrow said. "Me first."

Twist fell back, her claws gripping the sand. _I can make a run for it, _she thought. _While he's not looking._

But before she could move, the Shredder nudged her again from behind. "Get going," he said irritably. "You're taking all day."

Twist repressed the desire to hiss at him. Bending her head, she ducked beneath the web of pale branches and into the Claws' base.

It was nothing like she'd expected.

A large and expansive circle of white sand, the base was…beautiful. Along one side were orb-like nets of branches—like the entrance—all with thorns facing outwards. From inside the largest, she could see the glittering of several pairs of eyes. Further down was a hole in the ground, plastered all around with the gray mud from the brook. As they walked toward it, Twist could smell a sharp bitter scent that she likened to the plant they had given her; it made her stomach roil with unease. In the middle of the base, a large rock jutted from the ground like a claw, flattening to a plateau upon which was a scooped out bowl in the stone.

When she entered, dozens of cats poured from the dens like trickling water, eyes sharp but curious. The roil of color shocked her: cats with pelts of black, white, brown, cream, blue-black, silver, orange tabby filled the open space. Their multicolored eyes—some two different colors—trained on her like a hawk's watchful gaze.

Sparrow darted in front of her, motioning for her to stand still. He ducked inside the hole in the ground like a rabbit disappearing into its den. He returned quickly with a willowy she-cat with a wraithlike gray tabby pelt.

"This is her," Sparrow said to his companion, who looked at Twist with such critical icy eyes that she felt somehow ashamed of herself.

"Ah," the she-cat said, her voice clear and high like running water. "Yes, she'll do. I've seen her kind before." She turned to another and called, "Bring Amber, will you?" When the cat ran off, the she-cat asked, "Your name?"

Twist remained silent.

The she-cat's brow furrowed. "Being difficult will not help your case. I can help you out if you cooperate with us."

"I have no need to cooperate with murderers," Twist hissed, baring her teeth. Now that she was here, she knew there was no leaving. It was best to die with her pride intact than allow these rogues to kill her without mercy.

Amused, the she-cat let out a short purr. "Really," she murmured. "Murderers. Isn't that a bit much?"

"She's a Slider, Sorrow," the Shredder said. "We captured her along with the others."

"Oh?" Sorrow asked lightly. "And he picked her out of all of them, did he?"

"He said she was a fighter. Though not to the extent of that other she-cat."

"Ah, the little storm of a cat." Sorrow shook her head briskly. "If she refuses to cooperate with us, she will be sent along her way." Her words could have been dismissive, like she would let Lightfoot go, but a challenge gleamed in her pale eyes. "Anyway. Your name?"

Twist bared her teeth and said nothing.

Sorrow sighed, closing her eyes and letting her ears flatten to the sides. When she opened them again, she said, "Look. I'm doing you a favor. Would you like to be killed instead? Is that preferable? Because I can authorize that."

Sparrow started. "Sorrow—"

She cut him off. "He would not begrudge me one little she-cat, mountain-born or not." She put her head to one side. "I like you. You have the kind of spirit necessary for these kinds of things. So. I'll put it this way." She stepped back, brushing out her feathery tabby tail to gesture to the Claws who were still watching silently. "You can stay here, in this camp. You can help us out, tend to us, maybe even move up in ranks here. Or," and now she leaned forward, close enough for Twist to see that one of her eyes shone silver, "you can die. It's really your choice. I just hope you make the smart one, Twist."

Twist flinched at the sound of her name, then immediately regretted it; Sorrow's pale eyes shone with a hint of triumph. "I don't wish to join the Claws," she said at last, low and grudgingly.

Sorrow's eyes gleamed. She let out a single little laugh. "Join us? Don't be ridiculous! I'm not offering you a position within our much-better group. Oh no, you'll be _serving _us. Starting with the bottom and working your way up. You're lucky, Twist. If any other Claw had been in charge of your destiny, you would be dead."

Twist flattened her ears to her head, a growl rising quickly in her throat. "Serve you?" she echoed softly. "Please. Don't make me sick."

"Then you'll die," Sorrow snapped. "I don't care either way. Though the master did show some interest in you." She pulled her head back, tipping her face to one side critically. "I don't know what he sees in you. You're just another bedraggled mountain cat. We've seen those before."

Twist's heart caught in her chest. "Have you?"

Immediately, she regretted the words.

Sorrow's tail curled behind her in delight. Stepping forward, she began to circle Twist, keeping her head low. Her tail flicked lazily back and forth, and a purr rumbled in her chest. "So," she said liltingly, "you do show your allegiances to the mountains. Interesting, very interesting."

A thin ginger cat came running up behind her, green eyes alight with curiosity. "You called me, Sorrow?"

"Ah, Amber. Yes." Sorrow turned away from Twist with a fluid motion. "Take our new young friend to the nursery, will you? She will be cleaning out the bedding. Then, when she's done with that, she will help to fix the border fence. That should be easy enough for her Slider-dulled senses."

Twist felt a flash of hot fury but said nothing. This could be a vital time to check out the base of these Claws. She could see what they were up to here. Though, she thought as she looked around at the cats watching her, all the Claws here appeared to be less militaristic than the ones she'd seen before. Could this really be their base camp?

Amber trotted forward, white paws flashing with each step. "Come with me," she ordered, turning away and padding off without looking to make sure Twist was following.

As she went to fall in step, Twist looked at Sorrow. She was deep in conversation with Sparrow, but her pale eyes followed her. There was a challenge in the pale green and silver gaze that was disconcerting but also appraising. It was like this mysterious she-cat was looking for something in Twist, some kind of flash or trait. Even in that brief moment before Sorrow looked away, Twist felt that she had somehow affirmed something to the pale she-cat.

And Twist hated it.

* * *

**Super-lame, I know. Nothing really happened, but I'll make up for it next time! So, to test out this POV thingy, who would you like to see next? Twist's or Declan's? I have plans for the both of them. Devious, devious plans. -cackles-**

**Also, Portal 2? Definitely amazing. Seriously. I mean, I loled so hard for most of it. And the ending...? AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH = the sound of my happiness/sadness/giddiness/but mostly my nerdiness. **

**And what else... Um. Other things that were good since we last talked... OH! City of Fallen Angels, If I Stay, Plague, Anna and the French Kiss, and I Am Number Four-for books, anyway. I also saw Hanna, which was...aaaahhhh. I don't even know how to describe it. I guess the best way to say that I enjoyed watching it but wouldn't watch it again. XD**

**Anyway, now I'm blathering. -waves vaguely-**

**You know what to do.**

**R&R**

**Shadow **


	17. Chapter 17

**Weeeeeeeeeell, the votes have it. A Twist chapter it is!**

**LegendaryHero - Thanks! It's good to be alive! XD I promise this chapter is better...maybe. CRAP. THIS IS WHY I DON'T DO MATHS. Seriously, I am the suckiest in the world of suck at math. However, I can name all fifty American states in alphabetical order in under twenty seconds, which makes up for it. (I've just realized that that actually means nothing since I can't prove it on the interwebs. You'll just have to take my word for it.) **

**Mintheart - Sorry! You were out-voted! But you'll find out what happened to our dashing young hero soon enough, I promise you. ;)**

**Blazingstar of ThunderClan - Aaaah, Alex Pettyfer. He made that movie, I think. He is such a beautiful, beautiful man. You don't think the chapter was that bad? Perhaps I was being overly melodramatic. I tend to lean that way. Especially during romancey scenes, which is basically why I'm writing this fic. I'm really really bad at love stories and I need critique on them so I can do Young Adult fiction when I do books or whatever. Whatever I'll do when I actually become a capital A Adult with capital R Responsibilities. For now I'll just write fun stories about kitties. XD**

**Crowstorm - I would have revised it but I just wanted it to be over with. It had some crucial parts that my sad, sad little brain couldn't make sound good even when I tried. Plus it was during exam week and, well, we all know how well that makes things turn out. XD**

**anna - One order of Twist, hold the Declan. XD (Oh, Shadow, your jokes are so sad. Was that really a waitress-wannabe-thing? Sad. Tragic, really. And now you're talking to yourself. Really quite tragic.)**

**Jason - Hee~! I'm glad you like it. Also, okay things are about to get a little awkward here for a second, but are you a dude? I didn't know I had readers who were dudes. Actually, if anyone reading this story is a dude...I dunno. I just...okay this is weird. I'll stop now. XD THANKS FOR THE REVIEW! **

**Enough jibba-jabba!**

**Onto the story~**

* * *

Twist stood in line at the end of Sorrow's camp, waiting to be grouped. It had been five days since she'd been "inducted" into the Claws' society, and each one had been an endless stream of fear and apprehension. Every morning was the same: a wake-up yowl from one of the warriors—the marked ones, those with different eye colors—followed by the doling out of the day's chores. Twist slept in one of the caves at the back of the camp, behind a thick patch of long grass. Probably to keep the scent of outsiders away, Twist thought.

Her eyes caught movement ahead and she immediately braced herself. It was Sparrow, who seemed to be Sorrow's voice to the Claws.

"Good morning," he said politely. The guards who came to take over the workers, as the captured were called, were always kindly and gentle with them. "If you'll follow me, today you will be hunting along the brook for new nest material."

In Twist's suspicious mind, she wondered if this was to capture their trust or to lull them into a false sense of security. _It's working, _she thought, sliding her eyes across her fellow workers. The group generally changed—Sorrow shuffled them around about four caves just like this so no one formed bonds—so today it was made up of a tiny white she-cat Twist had met before named Vivian, a brown tom with a ripped ear called Bracken, and a black she-cat Twist had never met.

Sparrow led them out of the camp and off to the side. The place in the brook that they'd crossed to get to the camp was guarded by two marked toms, their pelts smeared with grayish mud. It appeared to be the lowest spot in the stream; it was no wonder why they guarded it.

"Here," he said, sweeping his tail out in front of him. The ground in front of him dipped into a bowl of high grass, bordered by the cold water. "Please take your time and help to shelter everyone. Make your finds and bring them to this spot here where the ground is stone. Remember, look for long stalks with no burrs or pricklers. If you find thin, strong branches, bring them back also. You can work with another cat if you wish. We will be watching your progress to make sure nothing goes wrong."

_Nothing goes wrong, _Twist echoed internally. _Meaning that no one tries to escape. _She hadn't seen anyone try to escape before: if the guards didn't catch up to you quick enough, the water would wash you away right back downstream where the Claws could pick you off as you drifted by. That is, if you didn't drown first.

The grass came up to Twist's chest and tickled her nose. Resisting the urge to sneeze, she found herself falling in line with Vivian.

"I remember you," she whispered as she bit at the stems of a patch of the yellowish grass. "We worked together two days ago."

Twist pulled the grass up by the roots, making a pile in a bare spot of ground. "We hunted together," she said.

Vivian nodded. "How did you get captured?"

"I was with the Sliders. We went out to bring back one of our own and I got caught."

Vivian made a small noise of sympathy. "I was a housepet. My housefolk are probably worried sick wondering where I am."

"How long have you been here?"

"Not very long at all. Not more than a moon cycle." She cast her eyes back at where Sparrow stood, fearfully. "I don't like these cats, Twist. I think they're doing something here. Something terrible. I've heard stories from other cats about what's gone on here. They kidnap other cats. Anyone they want, they take. Even kits! They take cats from their homes and they don't let them go home again." She lowered her voice. "Sometimes they even kill them."

Twist's veins felt full of ice. "But how do we escape?"

Vivian's eyes went to the ground where the grass was bundled. "We don't," she said simply. She gathered up the grass and headed up to Sparrow, dropping it at his feet. He thanked her in a cheerful voice but Vivian just stared at him with wide eyes before fleeing with her fur raised along her spine.

Sparrow watched her with his strange eyes before turning to Twist. Ears flattening, she turned back to her work. Even when she pried up the next patch of grass, she could feel those eyes trained on her back, burning into her pelt. Her belly roiled with a fear that made her head spin.

She managed to wander away to the back of the group, where the black she-cat was working dutifully. She looked up as Twist walked past her. "Hello."

Twist eyed her cautiously for a moment.

The she-cat chuckled humorlessly a bit. "No need for that. I heard what you said to Vivian. No worries, I was Slider stock, too."

"I'm not Slider stock. I joined them," Twist felt the need to say.

Her eyes widened. "Interesting. He must have seen something in you. He said he saw something in me, too, before he abandoned me here."

_She means Lucky, _Twist thought. "Have you given up?" she demanded quietly, eyes on Sparrow.

The black she-cat let out a noncommittal hum. "This life isn't good. It's full of emptiness. I wake up every morning in a new den surrounded by faces I don't recognize, waiting for this nightmare to be over. And you know what? It's not. The next morning will be the same. Over and over and over again. My life will never change. I'll keep serving these cats until I drop dead." She bent down and picked up a mouthful of fluffy bulrushes, eyes devoid of any emotion. "You'd do best to put thoughts of rescue out of your head. The only way that anything will change now is if you die." She walked past Twist, almost brushing her fur. "You can resist and you'll die; you can try to cross the river and you'll die; you can stop working and you'll die; you can work yourself too hard and you'll die. Take your pick."

Twist watched her go, the dread tightening in her stomach like poison. Between Vivian's hysteria and this she-cat's hollowness, the Claws' camp was turning out to be more of a terrifying reality than Twist had ever even imagined.

* * *

Sparrow halted them when the sun was at its zenith. "Good work, everyone," he praised lightly. "Please carry as much back to base as you can. I'll get another team to take care of the rest. When you're done, you can rest to catch your breath. Someone else will take care of you from then."

Twist snatched up a mouthful of long grass, looking up at Sparrow for only a heartbeat before dropping her gaze. His politeness, which had seemed real enough when he'd moved her from the pits to this camp, had turned into this stiff, surreal kindness that was somehow more frightening than a beating. It reminded her of how the mountains had seemed before a stormbreak: her mother had always warned her that it was the absolute worst time to go out and try to hunt because it could break at any moment, without warning. And by then it would be too late to save yourself.

Vivian was struggling under a load of nest-stuff when Twist caught up to her. She glanced over, blinking once in a greeting, before turning back to her work. They walked together all the way back to camp, depositing their heaps of grass in the same pile. "Now they'll make us work it," she said in her quick, small voice. "Make nests and walls and things like that. We're not allowed to speak once we're back in camp, remember. So don't let them catch us talking like this."

Twist looked around quickly to make sure no one was watching before saying quickly, "Vivian, we have to escape from here."

"There's no way to," she protested rapidly. "And I wouldn't dare speak of this in the camp. If Sorrow catches us, then—"

"You know we have to! I talked to that black she-cat. I don't know what they've done to her, but she's…empty."

"Kip," Vivian murmured sadly. "She never really speaks to anyone. I'm surprised she spoke to you."

"She was a Slider too and she doesn't even want to try to get back."

"There's no way to," Vivian said mournfully. She waited until Bracken had dropped his grass and walked away before adding, "I've tried. I've been here for longer than you. I've tried to escape. There's just no way to do it. There are always guards around. And even when there aren't, Sorrow is watching. She has eyes like…like…I don't even know."

"Like a hawk," Twist said grimly, dropping her voice to a low pitch as Sorrow herself emerged from the underground cave she made her nest in; her pale eyes drifted to Twist's, locking on for a second with a piercing stare, then she padded away into one of the dens. "What's her deal, anyway? I thought the Rogue was the leader of the Claws."

"He is. Sorrow's like…his second-in-command. I think this isn't the only camp. I think the Claws have them all broken up. Remember your first night here? We were in the same den. You were led here after Amber let you go. I know because I had nursery duty the same day."

"I remember." Twist and Vivian had to clean out the entire den of spoiled nest-stuff, replacing it with fresh grass that other workers had brought.

Vivian watched one of the marked guards walk by before saying, "Well, right after that, I was chosen to bring Sorrow new bedding. When I went up to the cave to give it to her—you have to wait until a guard takes it from you generally, but there wasn't one that day—she was speaking to someone. It was Bronze, that brownish tabby. They were talking about how there was a skirmish in the grasslands that some guards had to put down. And then Sorrow asked if he had to take any back to 'the needles' and he said no. The way she said it…it sounded like a name."

"When I was first brought here, they took me to someplace called the pits. They kept me down in a hole for days." Twist recalled the deep shadows and recesses with a kind of muted terror. All that darkness, all around. Wrapped in shadows. She shivered.

Vivian looked horrified. "I wasn't taken there. I was brought straight here. Sorrow took one look at me and told me I would be a worker. I've never left."

Twist clenched her teeth, squinting her eyes closed. "This camp is an island. Sparrow told me as much when he brought me here."

"Sparrow told you?" Vivian gasped. "He spoke to you?"

"Him and a cat called the Shredder."

Vivian, surprisingly, let out a scornful laugh. "He's a fluff-brain. I've seen him come in here with his tail all up in the air and a swagger in his step. He tried to boss me around before and Sorrow made him leave. He's a filthy, stupid, ignorant little—"

"Good job," Sparrow said appreciatively as he walked up, making both she-cats jump nearly out of their pelts. His eyes drifted up as Bracken trotted back slowly, then he turned back to Twist and Vivian. "You two did excellent work together. I would like it if you would continue to work together to fix the nursery's exterior. The wind has blown it down several times, and the queens are complaining of the cold. I'll have some workers bring you fresh mud so you can plaster the walls. Use some of this grass—the rougher stuff. Save the softest parts for nests. Okay?"

"Okay," Vivian agreed softly.

Sparrow made a little content noise. "Get to it, then." Then he turned to Bracken and Kip to give his orders while Twist and Vivian slipped away.

The mud that the workers—a trio of dingy-pelted young toms—brought them was thick, oozy, and sticky. It must have been dug up fresh from the brook's bank, Twist thought as she began to spread it across the brambly front of the queens' den. The thorns pricked at her pads, though without enough force to make her bleed.

Vivian scooted in next to Twist. At such close proximity, the white she-cat was even tinier than usual, barely half of Twist's size. Spreading a fan of grass across the mud Twist had just applied, Vivian said, "So what's the plan?"

Twist shook her head. "I don't have one. We need to find out more about the Claws. How many camps they have, what kind of numbers we're looking at, why some of their cats have different colored eyes—"

"Marked cats have those," Vivian informed her. "The Rogue picks them out himself. It's really the only time he ever comes here."

Twist froze with her paw in midair, a thick drop of mud falling to the ground with a splat. "What?" she hissed.

Vivian looked a little startled. "What?"

"What did you just say?"

"Marked cats have mismatched eyes?"

"No, no," Twist said impatiently. "After that. The Rogue comes _here_?"

Vivian blinked. "Yes. He's the one that chooses what cats are going to be in his guard. I don't know if you've noticed," she went on as she patted grass into place, "but all of the guards here are marked. That's because the Rogue picks takes the kits with different eye colors away from their mothers when they're really young—too young to remember—and raises them himself. That's probably why all the guards are so creepy. They don't have any social skills because they've only been raised with other marked cats." She sighed heavily. "Come to think of it, the last time I saw the Rogue was when Star's kits were born. That was right when I first came here."

"The Rogue, what does he look like?" Twist whispered, almost frantically. The cat that tried to destroy the Sliders, the one who kidnapped her, the one who was the only cat Lucky feared. In her mind he was stark black with orange eyes, ferociously extended claws, and glistening fangs.

Vivian shook her head. "Normal. He's a brown tabby. He's marked, of course. And he has one white paw." Her shoulders hunched forward as a cat walked by, then she added, "He has a weird way of talking. Really slow. His voice is deep. And he's absolutely terrifying."

Twist shivered. In a way, it was rather anticlimactic to hear about one's enemy being so…average. Though the fear that sparked in Vivian's eyes was real enough, and Twist knew better than to take that as nothing.

A queen popped her head out of the front of the den, turning to stare at them with narrowed eyes. "A pair of workers," she said slowly. "I wondered who was out here hissing like a bunch of snakes."

"Sorry, Ruby," Vivian said dutifully, bending her head until her muzzle nearly brushed the floor.

"Well, it's alright," Ruby said haughtily. She straightened, licking her ruffled chest fur. "I was just wondering what was going on." She stepped out of the nursery, her huge belly swaying beneath her white belly fur. Her pelt was a very dark red, almost brown, and her eyes shone gold and green. Marked.

Twist blinked. She didn't know that normal Claws that weren't guards could be marked.

Ruby's lazy eyes fixed on her. "And who are you?"

"Twist," Vivian answered. "She's new."

Ruby yawned, showing sharp white teeth and bristling whiskers. "Obviously. I know all the cats around here anyway. So who are you? A pet? A rogue? A mountain cat?"

"A Slider," Vivian said.

Twist turned to her sharply, widening her eyes significantly.

"Oh, please," Ruby said sarcastically, stretching herself out on the sun-warmed sand. "There's really no need for that. You see, Vivian and I are kind of friends. I say 'kind of' because if I didn't Sorrow would kill me. Well, not necessarily kill me. She's probably wait until my kits were born, make sure at least one of the little brats was marked, and _then _kill me. Probably with a lot of malice."

Twist just stared at her.

Vivian laughed shakily. "Isn't she funny?" she asked in a voice that was more petrified than amused.

Falling onto her side so that her belly bulged, Ruby continued, "Yes, Sorrow doesn't take lightly to Sliders. Not to the extent of the master, though. He really despises you suckers."

"The Sliders aren't suckers!" Twist hissed before she could stop herself.

Ruby's eyes widened. "Oh ho! A fighter, huh? I can appreciate that. And before you get your tail in a knot, I wasn't saying anything bad against the Sliders. I was just making an observation."

"An observation that is clearly unwanted," Twist said coldly. She was tired of waiting on these lazy cats, and tired of their hatred toward Sliders. She wanted to know where her friends were, but more desperately still, she wanted to know where Declan was. The absence of him was grating on her like a raw wound, and every time she thought about him, that wound reopened and bled.

_Is he looking for me? _she wondered. _Is he worried about me? I wish he was looking for me. I wish he would find me. I wish he was here. I wish, I wish, I wish… _

But there was no point for wishing. Sometimes whenever the fear would overtake her, Twist would think about him. She would wonder what he was doing, forcing her mind away from the terror and inwards onto a memory of them together. Of how her fear dissipated when Declan was there. Of how she felt safe with him, completely and utterly safe.

And then she remembered where she was.

Ruby clucked her tongue. "Cheeky worker, aren't you? You should keep that in check before someone gets their claws into you. I already heard about the new round of you Sliders anyway. Seems like most of them were sent to the pits. Were you there also?"

Vivian turned to Twist, eyes full of something, but Twist turned away. She remained stonily silent.

Leaning forward and extending a paw, Ruby said, "Look. I get that you're all angry and sad and scared and whatever. But workers don't have to be. Especially not in Sorrow's camp. I know that you're kind of terrified of her because she's really mean-looking and sometimes she takes a swipe at you little servants, but she's really not that bad. You have to understand that you're in enemy territory. Sliders and Claws have been enemies since the beginning. But if you treat us with respect, we'll treat you the same." Her eyes locked on something behind Twist and she added, "Just be careful with what you say. Some cats are listening more intently than others, and not always just to hear what you have to say." Then she pulled back, said a swift goodbye, and went back in the nursery.

Twist turned around to see what she had been looking at and saw nothing but the grass-pile. Sparrow was still standing there, watching Kip sweep the scraps together with her paws. As if he had sensed her, he looked up at her, eyes shining.

Twist turned back to her work, pelt bristling uneasily.

"Ruby won't tell on us," Vivian assured her quietly. "She and I are friends, like she said. Kind of. You can trust her."

But Twist just scoffed bitterly. "I can't trust anyone."

Vivian reached up to place the next patch of grass. As she did so, her pelt brushed Twist's ever so lightly. "You can trust me."

"Can I?" Twist glanced up at her with narrowed eyes.

Vivian, now dusting her paws off on the sandy ground, said, "Yes. If you want to escape, then I'm with you. We just need to find out how, but we can do it. I've been too much of a coward to do it myself. One cat can't escape here, I've told you that. But two cats…" She trailed off, glancing back up at Twist, now with an almost mischievous glint in her eyes. "It could actually work."

A cat yowled in the camp, signaling the end of the day. Generally around this time, a cat would be waiting to break up the workers into different grounds again, shuffling around the sleeping arrangement. But there weren't enough workers to make it a perfect system: Twist and Vivian had already overlapped twice.

"Until the next time we're grouped together," Twist whispered, "be on the lookout for things we can use. Guard schedules, Sorrow's movements, landscapes, anything. I'll do the same. When we meet up again, we can compare what we've found."

"Good plan." Vivian's eyes glinted. "We can do this, Twist."

Twist's heart squeezed almost painfully. "We can," she growled under her breath. Standing up and walking to the center of the camp, where Sparrow stood to split them into different groups, she added, "We just need to figure out _how._"

* * *

**So that wasn't too bad, right? I kind of liked it. It only took me about an hour to write anyway, so...that's good. **

**Guys, Glee was pretty amazing last night, wasn't it? Sigh. When did my life become so wound around television, I wonder? I mean, I have a show that I watch literally every night now, which is weird for a gamer like me, I suppose. I mean, because you guys probably don't read this anyway, I will tell you my television schedule.**

**Monday - House**

**Tuesday - Glee**

**Wednesday - American's Next Top Model (DON'T TELL ME WHO WON. I HAVEN'T WATCHED IT YET.)**

**Thursday - American Idol**

**Friday - American Idol again**

**Saturday and Sunday - Come on, no one loves Saturday or Sunday television. Srsly.**

**And somewhere in there is The Mentalist and The Voice, which is surprisingly cool. Not to mention I get to look at Adam Levine. And he is beautiful. Not as beautiful as Liam Neeson, but nobody is as beautiful as Liam Neeson.**

**I feel like this has gone on far too long. This is because of my scatterbrainedness. I should really just start a blog for all this drivel so you poor reader don't have to subject yourselves to it. And then I could make money, perhaps, and fuel my Mountain Dew cravings. Seriously, the worst part about being home for the summer is that my mom has limited my caffeine intake to TWO sodas a day. TWO. How can I live on two sodas a day? I NEED CAFFEINE.**

**Maybe I'll just wait outside Starbucks and look exaggeratedly morose and desolate until someone buys me a coffee. That could work, right?**

**Anyway.**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	18. Chapter 18

**Heya, heya! WriDaNoJu's setting in (it's like NaNoWriMo only in June) and because I have the offical WORST/meanest/cruelest/Oh-God-why-would-you-do-this-to-meeeeeeeee? best friend in the world (I'm looking at you, Fwirl), I have to write 75K this month. D: So look forward to a lot of updates. And long ones. Long long.**

**Queen of the Pens - I watched it the day after I wrote that chapter and kind of liked the ending. I wasn't really rooting really strongly for either finalist, so I guess it's a good ending to me. XD**

**Amazingly awesome person - I KNOW, RIGHT? I was wondering where you'd gone! I thought you'd decided that my crazy was too much to handle and ABANDONED me. XD I LOVE shades of gray. I just can't tell if I'm overdoing it. I'm leaving it in your capable hands, AAP-chan, to tell me if I'm overdoing it. Kay? Kay.**

**LegendaryHero - I know, right? Totally getting into the swing of this regular update thing. :O Legend, I can't believe you're a dude. I can't believe that dudes read my stories. I mean, I guess I knew that some of my readers were dudes, but I always default reviewers to little mental pictures of what their pennames remind me of. But mostly girls, I have to say. Mostly girls. XD**

**Midlina - Thanks! Love your penname, btw. Very pretty~**

**Blazingstar of ThunderClan - Dude, I run on caffeine. I drank a Mountain Dew an hour ago and _now I have this chapter. _Thank God for Mountain Dew. Srsly.**

**Crowstorm - I have the main points plotted out (how it's going to end, what I want to accomplish in each chapter, etc.) but I kinda make up the stuff in between as I go along. Is it obvious? -hides under the table and dreads- And have I mentioned how cool your penname is? It reminds me of Crowfeather. I did love him. I haven't read a Warriors book in over a year, so I don't even know what's going on with him in these newest ones. I hope he's okay. But I digress. XD**

**warriorcrazy - Heehee! Thanks! :D**

**Okay. I realized I was dallying around a lot with this plot so I'm cutting straight to the chase now. Hope you guys don't miiiiind~**

**Also, should I put in a list of allegiences? Would that help? -realizes there are many characters with pretty similar names-**

**Anyway.**

**Onto the story~!**

* * *

The next time Twist saw Vivian almost four days later.

Having been settled seemingly permanently into a den filled with otherwise constantly-shifting groups of workers. In those four days, Twist only recognized the black she-cat Kip, the one who had been silent and downtrodden as she'd ever seen a cat be. She was quiet as ever, keeping her head low and hanging as if she was constantly in pain—the way Twist had seen the older servants be—though she also seemed to keep her ears pricked. _Probably to keep one step ahead of Sparrow and Bronze, _Twist thought, eyes sliding over to where the thick-built tabby was today.

Bronze had been showing up more and more every day passing. The last time Twist had seen him, he had delegated the Slider group into the pits, his marked eyes lit with glee. Now he seemed to be in the same calm demeanor constantly, just like Sparrow. The two of them were almost identical, so much so that Twist wondered if they were brothers. Out of the two of them, Sparrow was much kinder to the servants, if only allowing them a few more moments rest while doing harder tasks.

And today had been one of those tasks.

Bronze had been in command of them that morning. "Hello, friends," he had greeted, eyes glinting maliciously. "I've heard this group has had some problems with…transgressors. We of the Claws cannot allow even a whisker of disobedience. This is a tightly-run group—a family, if you will—and those who do anything to harm the family must be punished. Or," he had added, a growl lacing his voice, "those who try to leave."

"What is he talking about?" Twist had heard the brown tom behind her ask the she-cat next to him.

"A renegade tried to get away," the she-cat had whispered back to him. "Two mornings ago. He made a break for it and some guards caught him."

"What's that in the back?" Bronze's lazily arrogant voice had grown louder. Twist had felt a spike of fear lance down her spine before she could stop it as those cold eyes landed on her.

The she-cat had quieted at once.

Not taking that as an answer, Bronze had trotted forward. The workers had parted for him like a wave, some stepping back so quickly they tripped over their own tails. Twist had tried to back up, too, but collided with the she-cat who had been speaking. They had exchanged a quick, fearful glance—the she-cat was a new addition, a pet the Claws had wrangled in because of her very pale though distinctly marked eyes.

Bronze had stopped in front of Twist, head to one side. "Did you say something, little worker?" he had asked lightly, anger sparking like lightning in his eyes.

"No," she had said quickly, though her voice had died. She had cleared her throat. "No," she had repeated, louder.

"No?" Bronze had sounded politely confused. "Did you not tell your neighbor of the fate to that defector?"

"I didn't," Twist had said, trying to keep any argumentativeness out of her voice. It was a strain; after living with the Claws for nearly two weeks, her wits were severely frayed. She had wanted nothing more than to rake her claws down this smug cat's face and rip that expression right off.

"You didn't." Bronze had begun to prowl around her, his hard muscles rippling under his tabby pelt. On his second circle, he had asked, "Then if it wasn't you, who was it?"

Twist, along with those watching, had been completely silent. The sun had just been rising and the sky was dark with clouds—swollen to grayness with coming rain. Their tattered shadows had cast down on the flat grassy ground in front of her, changing and warping. Twist had not been able to take her eyes off the shadows.

"Who was it, she-cat?" Bronze had snapped, his patience running out.

"I don't know," she had lied quickly. "They were behind me. I couldn't see their faces."

"No?" Then Bronze had acted more concerned. "Well, as I said before, we must seek out transgressors." He had looked into the groups of workers, all wide-eyed and spike-pelted. "All those who were standing behind our friend here, come forward now. Or you'll be very sorry very, very soon."

No one had twitched a whisker.

"No? No one will speak up for this she-cat? She claims it wasn't her that spoke out of turn. She tells me it was one of you. Do none of you have anything to say to that?"

A few uneasy glances had been exchanged, though still no one had stepped forward.

Bronze had turned back to Twist. "Well, I guess there's the answer," he had said, mockingly sympathetic. "Report to Sparrow immediately. Tell him I sent you. He'll have a…_special_ job for you."

Which brought Twist back to the present, belly-deep in thick, stinking mud with a group of mangy workers. The scent of the mood clotted her nostrils almost completely, making her gag and choke. Downstream, where the brook slowed to a crawl, river-weeds built up. These weeds clung to the sides of Sorrow's island, rotting and festering. The Claws always picked the most rebellious workers to have this particular job, as no one—not even the other workers—could stomach it for long.

Long after Twist's nose had gone scent-dead, Vivian showed up. She was being pushed along by a long-legged she-cat guard who looked rather haggard. She shoved Vivian hard into the mud, matting up her stark white pelt with the sucking mud.

"That should teach you to speak unless spoken to," the guard spat, kicking a pawful of grass onto Vivian's muddied head resentfully. She nodded to the pair of guards on duty then disappeared back the way she'd come.

As soon as the guards returned to their dull-eyed watch, Twist ducked over to Vivian's side. "What happened?" she whispered quickly, glancing over her shoulder; one of the guards was yawning widely, eyes shut, and the other was biting along a hind leg for fleas.

Vivian, blinking mud off of her eyelashes, let out a soft gasp. "Twist! I was afraid I wasn't going to see you again! Oh, Twist, it's terrible! I wasn't doing anything wrong at all and that guard came and told me to follow her! I just wanted to go visit Ruby! Her kits are due any day now and I didn't want her to overwork herself so I went to get her an extra piece of prey. That guard thought I was stealing it out of turn and told me I had to be punished!"

"It's okay," Twist soothed her, licking mud off one of the she-cat's small ears. "I'm getting punished for something I didn't even say."

"Hey, you two," the guard yowled. "Get back to work! I want to see some progress!"

"O-okay." Vivian's eyes widened in terror and she turned to the pile of river-weed the two of them were working on.

In a lower voice Twist said, "There's been a breakout. A cat tried to escape yesterday morning."

"I heard," Vivian whispered back. "It was awful, Twist. I saw him just before it happened. It was that tom we were working with in the grass field the other day. Bracken. We were hunting for more nest-stuff just on the far side of the island, near where the guards cross, and he just ran for it. He didn't even get to the other side of the river before they were on him." She closed her eyes tightly, shivering. "I've seen a lot of things since I came here, Twist, but I've never seen anything as savage as those guards pouncing on him. As if he was just another bit of prey…" She trailed off, shaking her head.

Twist's stomach roiled with nausea. "Did…did they kill him?"

Vivian shook her head again. "I don't know. I didn't see. They took us all away from it really quickly. They made us swear not to tell." Her blue eyes, already big, widened even more. "Twist, I think they really would kill us if we tried to escape. How are we ever going to get out of here?"

Twist looked away. "I don't know. We'll figure it out. We need a plan. It needs to be planned. We can't just make a break for it like Bracken did."

"I don't think we'll ever escape sometimes. I see the outside sometimes, you know. In the hunting grounds on the far side, you can see a bit of the woods. I think I see cats over there sometimes. But I don't know. Maybe it's just my mind going insane. Sometimes I think I really am going crazy. Like all of this is a horrible nightmare and if I try hard enough, I can wake myself up."

"You can't think like that," Twist said firmly, barely brushing her tail over the smaller she-cat's back. Under her touch, Twist felt Vivian still shaking. "You have to stay positive. We can do this. We just have to plan it. Like I said. We can do it."

"I don't know," Vivian moaned, pushing her river-weed back into the water. It bobbed along grotesquely for a moment before sinking into the water without a sound. "I've been watching the guard schedules like we said and I've never seen a single break in their formations. They never leave the crossing unprotected and there's always four or five of them walking around the base."

Twist looked down, thinking hard as she scraped a bundle of weeds together. A cold wind rippled the fur along Twist's shoulders and she shivered. The mud had soaked all the way through her pelt to her skin, sticking her fur together in rough clumps. There had to be a way, she thought as she felt the guard's eyes drift across her lazily. There had to be a way out. Some little slip, an opening. One way or another, there had to be some kind of gap in their attention that could allow them to slip through.

_And then what? _

Twist gritted her teeth at that, shoving the weeds back into the brook.

For the entirety of her capture, Twist had wondered what to do after she had freed herself. Going back to the Sliders seemed like an incredibly bad idea: she had lied her way into their ranks in the first place, not to mention the fact that Lucky was a do-nothing leader. He would rather protect himself than ever stand up to anyone, something Twist detested about him. The only reason she had stayed there so long in the first place was because she had nowhere left to go.

_So why did you even come down from the mountain in the first place?_

The thought struck her suddenly, freezing her and making her sink up to her shoulders in the mud. As Vivian helped work her back onto all four paws, Twist's mind kept replaying the question, bouncing it off of the walls of her consciousness.

_So why did you even come down from the mountain in the first place?_

_To escape from Stripes, _was her first thought. After all, Stripes had led the gang into fight after useless fight with the Tribe. What was the point of continuing with all that useless bloodshed, especially when Twist herself hated to lift a claw against another cat? But that wasn't right, it couldn't be. She had lived her entire life by Stripes' side: they were the same age, close as littermates when they had been kits, and they had always supported the other. That is, until that day up on the stormy cliff when she had landed the blow that had killed her own father.

_To find my own life, _was her second thought but that wasn't right either. She had been perfectly fine surrounded by a group of cats she'd known since she had been born: sometimes she even caught herself missing some of them, mostly the second of the gang, Hazard, who had taken her under his wing after her mother had left the gang to travel down the mountain.

Suddenly, it struck her. Blindingly, like a burst of light.

_To find my mother._

Was that the real reason? Was that why she had really turned her back on the gang that had raised her, protected her, fed and kept her for her entire life? Up until a few months ago, she had never even seen grass. Was that the real reason that she had left everything she had known?

_She told me that she would find me one day,_ Twist remember, feeling the familiar sting at her heart when she thought of her mother. _It's been so long. She must be waiting for me somewhere. She wouldn't come back up the mountain after what happened to my fath—to Braiser. The entire gang thought that she had done it. That's why Hazard and Stripes had taken over in the first place. _

Twist wanted to pull away from the thoughts, to focus on the simple task of cleaning the banks, but the notion of her mother being somewhere down in the area had consumed her. Spirit's image filled Twist's mind: it had been so long since she'd seen her, smelled her familiar scent, the soothing timbre of her voice. Was she wondering where her only kit was? Could she be looking somewhere down here in the valley for her precious heart? Her dear one? Had she been looking this entire time?

"Twist?" Vivian's soft voice snapped her out of her reverie.

"Y-yes?" Twist shook her head quickly, as if to shake the thoughts out of her brain. She had never felt more alive in the dull gray world of the Claws until that moment.

"Sorry," Vivian mewed. "You seemed like you were a thousand miles away."

_I wish I was, _Twist thought bitterly. She gave a little comforting purr, the first purr she could remember producing in a long time. "Let's finish this up."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After the beaches had been cleaned enough to meet the guards' fancy, the workers were allowed to go back to the base for a quick rest before moving onto the rest of the day's work. Twist and Vivian decided to break up for the respite so it would seem less suspicious—they had been together almost constantly the entire first half of the day.

Twist collapsed on the ground, fur slicked with mud, stinking of the river-weed. A guard walked by in front of her, dropping a mouse as he went.

"Share with the cat next to you," he ordered.

Twist dipped her head, avoiding eye-contact.

The cat next to her turned out to be the black she-cat Kip again. Twist's eyes widened in surprise. "Hey."

Kip blinked slowly. "Hey," she said, her voice sounding distinctly morose. "Shall we switch off bites? That seems to be the easiest solution."

"O-okay." Twist pushed the mouse over to her for the first bite. Kip, moving slowly as if her jaw was hurting, took the tiniest bite imaginable, barely enough to even break the mouse's skin. Then she pushed it over to Twist, eyes still dull.

Taking a bite, Twist watched Kip out of the corners of her eyes. The she-cat seemed just as beaten as the last time Twist had seen her. Her pelt was lank from under-eating, her eyes were dull and clouded. Everything about her screamed wasting away.

Except for her claws.

Twist looked at them surreptitiously. They were long and sharp, curved wickedly at the tips. Even withdrawn up into her paws, Kip's clawtips poked out through her thin fur like thorns.

She saw Kip look up and quickly averted her gaze. She must have been too slow, because Kip asked, "Why were you staring at me?"

"Uh…" Twist didn't know how to explain, so she decided to be honest and ask. "How do you keep your claws so trimmed? I mean, they don't allow anyone to hunt that's a worker, do they? They'd have to go off the island."

Kip's eyes widened. They looked positively huge in her thin face. "They do go off the island," she mewed with a raspy voice. "Workers. The ones that the master trusts the most. He comes and selects them himself sometimes, but usually Sorrow will do it."

"You're one of the hunters?" Twist was surprised. Kip had told her herself that she had once been a Slider. Did the Rogue really show such privileges to workers that had come from his most hated enemy?

Kip took another bite. "Sometimes. Sometimes I pick grass for nests. Sometimes I patch the dens. It changes." She cough suddenly, with such a startling hack in her throat that Twist thought she was choking. When she recovered, she added, "I'm okay."

Twist looked uneasily down at where Kip had bitten off a bit of the mouse.

Kip shook her head. "No need for that. I'm not contagious."

_With a cough like that? _Twist was skeptical.

Kip sighed heavily. During it, Twist could see the outline of every single one of the black she-cat's ribs. "I've been this way for a long time. Something's wrong with my body." She turned to look right at Twist and added, "I'm dying, you know. I'm getting worse every day. One day, I just won't wake up."

Twist felt her eyes widen. "Do they know?"

Kip nodded wearily. "Of course. They knew when they got me that I was sickly. I'll work out the rest of my days here and then disappear. I only hope that I go quietly. Oh, don't give me that look. I told you before, I've been here a long time. Longer than I can remember."

"Didn't you have a life with the Sliders?" Twist whispered. "A mate? Kits?"

"I did," Kip murmured. "But that was so long ago. My kits are all probably fine additions to that coward's ranks." Her words were laced with bitterness.

Twist's own heart ached. With her new insight into her own mind, Twist wondered if her own mother felt similarly. _To be away from the cats you care about is agonizing,_ a voice in the back of her head told her.

She squinted her eyes closed against the blinding picture of the cat she cared about the most before it could take her breath away.

"What are their names?" Twist asked gently, surprising herself. "I stayed with them a long time; I can probably tell you about them."

Kip looked up at Twist with hollow eyes. A hungry light had lit in the back of them, like sunlight streaming in through a cave. "Could you?" she whispered dryly. "You would do that…for me? You don't know me."

"I would want the same done for me."

Kip closed her tired eyes. "Viktor," she said. "My son's name is Viktor."

Twist felt he jaw drop. "Viktor used to be a pet, though!" she exclaimed, immediately clamping down on her high-pitched astonishment as a guard shot her a suspicious look.

"Keep it down," he snarled. "Talk softly amongst yourselves. You only have a few more moments."

Twist turned away, ducking her head past her shoulder until he looked away again. Then she turned back to Kip, who was looking at her as if she'd never heard such amazing news.

"You know him?" Kip asked, eyes fixed unwaveringly on Twist. "My son? You know my Viktor?"

"You used to be a pet, too?" Twist asked.

Kip nodded. "A long time ago. Very long ago. My housefolk had me as a kitten. When they moved away they abandoned me. I was locked inside, just my little Viktor and I, for days on end. I was starving. There was no food in the entire house to eat. Not even scraps. I didn't have enough milk to feed my Viktor. I had to act. So I broke one of their windows—those gaps covered in clear-stuff—and escaped." She turned her head to the side to show Twist her neck. It was laced with scars underneath her short, lank pelt of fur. "Viktor and I escaped. We didn't make it far; we were weak, so weak, and barely more than fur on bones. We were found by a cream she-cat with long fur. You know her. Wisp."

Twist made a soft sound of assent in the back of her throat. "I know her." The thought of the old she-cat left a bitter taste in Twist's mouth. One on side, Wisp was looked at as the mother to all the Sliders. On the other, she was a conniving and manipulative she-cat, known for playing with her so-called family, wheedling them out of their secrets, before accepting them among her gang.

"She had two kits with her then. You have to remember, Twist, I was very young then. Viktor was small and weak for his age. I had nowhere else to go. Wisp offered me a safe haven. She wanted to build a place where all unwanted cats could be safe. She had heard about a recently abandoned no-pelt place where they dumped their rubbish and was on her way. She asked if I wanted to go with her and her kits. And I said yes."

"Wait, her kits?" Twist was finding it harder to keep her voice down.

She nodded. "Yes. Two of them. I remember them clearly. They were young, younger than my Viktor, who was walking by himself and almost weaned. These kits barely had their eyes open. They weren't Wisp's kits. She told me she had found them abandoned by their mother and took them in. She was kindly to them, and to me. I went with her and together, we began what you know now as the Warren."

"_You_ helped her?" Twist was stunned completely. All this time, all the wondering about the Sliders and their history, wondering who to ask about it, and the entire time Kip was here, silent and weary.

Kip nodded. She was toying with the mouse now, barely eating anything. "We brought in all the kits, the mothers, the young toms, the runaways, that we could find. Anyone who wanted a home, we offered shelter to. Wisp and I were close friends. She was older than me but it didn't matter. We were like sisters. Her kits grew quickly and she trained them in the arts of leadership, bravery, courage, logic, and most of all persuasion. She honed it into them like a normal mother teaches hunting. While Viktor learned the best way to catch rats, Wisp was teaching her kits how to talk their way out of any situation, how to gain the favor of cats who didn't agree with them, how to plan out every single step they ever took to make sure they knew all the options. They weren't normal, those kits. They were warped into something a kit shouldn't be. A kit shouldn't know the things those two did."

"Lucky," Twist breathed, everything clicking into place. "Lucky was one of those kits, wasn't he?"

Kip, eyes solemn, nodded. "Wisp trained him from almost birth to be how he is. She wanted the perfect leader—distant, solemn, merciless. And she succeeded."

Twist shivered. _But the other kit? Who was the other one?_

The guards—the fresh batch who had just come in through the entrance to the base to take the places of the ones already present—were starting to gather the workers up to divvy them into their next batch of groups. Their pelts were slicked flat with mud, as usual for them. Twist had never seen a guard who hadn't been done up completely in mud. She wondered sometimes if it was for effect—to make them all look identical and aggressive—or to cloak their numbers. It was nearly impossible to distinguish between them, save for the color of their eyes. They headed toward the group of resting workers.

Kip noticed this. "Twist, my son, my Viktor," she said quickly. "Tell me, how is he? Is he healthy? Happy?" Her eyes shone with desperation.

The guards were marching closer, pushing in between the closest workers.

Twist shoved between the wriggling mass of workers to Kip, telling her, "He and his mate have just had their first batch of kits. Four of them. They're all healthy and very happy. They were growing quickly the last time I saw them."

Kip's eyes lost their hollowness for a second; she looked utterly relieved, as if a weight had been taken off her shoulders. Twist saw her mouth silently, "Thank you," before they were pulled apart by the guards.

"You lot on this side, you're on nest-collection." The guard, a seasoned old tom with scars across his muzzle beneath his coating of brook mud—_From fighting the Sliders?—_pushed Twist to her feet. As she stumbled, she heard him tell the guard beside him, "That's what you have to do, son. If they don't go quick enough, you make them. You got it?"

"I understand," the younger guard said, in a flat tone.

Twist stopped in her tracks, her heart and breathing stopping in the same second. _No, _she thought as her blood ran icy with fear and revulsion. Slowly, she turned to look at the guard, feeling her muscles lock down as if she'd just been dropped into ice water.

He had his head turned to speak with his older guard mentor but then, as if he'd sensed her looking, swung his head around. His eyes, ringed with mud that had been applied with the expert touch only the guards of the Claws could accomplish, were a bright and vivid green.

It was Declan.

* * *

**Hee! Bet you didn't see THAT coming!**

**Well, it's two in the morning here so I should go to sleep. I guess. Sleeping is overrated anyway. Why even sleep if you can just down a Dew? For realz.**

**Also, did you guys know that a blue whale's aorta is large enough for a human to swim in? It's true.**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	19. Chapter 19

**Heeeeeeey! Sorry for the bit of a delay - I went to my grandparents house to hang for awhile and get spoiled by my grandma. She makes the best chicken ever. Maybe it's just a Southern thing, but there is nothing better than baked chicken and potatoes. -drools-**

**Also I've been distracted by this whole Casey Anthony trial thing. Have you guys seen any of that? It's a huuuuuge deal in Florida since Casey Anthony is (unfortunately) one of our own. It's so sad, though. I watched with my grandpa when they were calling for forensic evidence and it was just...bluuuuur. No one deserves that kind of thing to happen to their family - and especially not to a two-year-old little girl. It's tragic.**

**Anyway. Rant completed. On to review replies!**

* * *

**Sky Fireheart - Hee~ You think poor Twist now, wait til you see what I do to her next! X3**

**Crowstorm - When you get to be a college student, you really have to work for sleep. I saw a bumper sticker that said: "1) Sleep, 2) Social Life, 3) Good Grades. You can only pick two. Welcome to college!" So true. T~T**

**Queen of the Pens - I'd imagine it would be quite...sticky. XD And as for your request, I shall allow it! Voila! Allegiances!**

**Sunfeather15666 - Hee~! I'm glad you like this story so much! You're making me blush! XD As for your question, you shall seeeee~**

**Tangleflame - If I didn't stop there, I would have just kept going forever. You wouldn't want to read until forever, would you? :P**

**LegendaryHero - Hmm. I didn't think about the bad ones all getting together very thoroughly, did I? Let's pretend that they're under high-security prisons with...laser collars on. Get it all Battle Royale up in here. XD Real life does get in the way of updating sometimes but I do try. I just write these silly little kitty stories for fun when I'm done tormenting my own noveling characters. XD**

**Priceless Cat Lady - Heehee! One update, hot off the presses! And by hot I mean digital and by presses I mean keyboard! XD**

**Amazingly awesome person - I had the idea a coupla months ago and then fleshed out the skeleton of the plot. I put on all the meat as I go along. The problem with fanfiction as opposed to noveling is that you can't go back and trim the fat. XD Your review made me lol, though. "SUCH A TWIST!" is going to be my new catchphrase for this fic, I think. XD**

**Enough nattering!**

**Onto the story~**

* * *

(As a short foreword, these aren't really allegiances, but my notes on the cats in my story. So, they're not really laid out very nicely but they hit all the details I think they should - eye color, fur, a bit of personality, the scene they appeared in and/or details I for-some-reason mention. Whatevs.)

_Allegiances _

**Mains**:

Declan – thick red-brown fur, with tan banding on his long legs, and a white belly and paws, dark green eyes

Twist – dark brown tortoiseshell with black spots around her spine, white chest and paws, white streaks around eyes look like lightning bolts, yellow eyes

**Sliders**:

Leader: Lucky –tom with creamy tan fur, darker tabby stripes, brown paws, brown streak from nose to tail, lighter underbelly and chest, dark nearly black amber eyes

Deputy of Sorts: Viktor – longhaired dark gray tom with black stripes, white tail tip, one yellow eye, mate to Kite

Wisp – longhaired dark cream she-cat, with a white underbelly and paws, and a dark brown face, dark brown stripe down her back, brown-ringed legs, yellow eyes, ever-changing personality to check if the cat she's speaking to is a liar or believable. Tells Lucky what to do.

Kite – milky-white she-cat, Viktor's mate, kits: Adder (gray tabby tom), Whisper (white she-cat), Violet (white she-cat), and Streak (white tom with a brown-striped tail)

Flint – pale tabby tom with dark stripes, Max's brother

Gravel – big gray tom, grouchy

Kent – big gray tom, patient

River – big red tom with tattered ears

Audrey – ginger tabby she-cat with yellow eyes, cheerful

Lightfoot – white she-cat with a slash of black down from her forehead to her tail tip, face fringed with feathery white fur, tail, paws, with vivid green eyes, vicious killer with a taste for blood

Beck – abrasive black tom, small and light-framed. Dead.

Max – young white tom with a brown spot on his head, Flint's brother, attacked by the Claws and lost an ear

Marco – black-and-white tom, messenger

Iggy – thin, bony gray tom, sentry

Lilac – Max's foster mother, killed personally by the Rogue for refusing to leave the Sliders

_(Captured group – Twist, River, Gravel, Flint, Beck, and Lightfoot)_

**Claws**:

The Rogue – Powerful pale brown tabby, marked eyes (nearly black amber and icy blue), scarred shoulders

Snit – black-and-white tom with mismatched eyes—one yellow and one blue, sarcastic and snappish, really a member of the Claws and only pretends to be a Slider

Bronze – spokescat for the Claws, young commander of their forces

The Shredder (Real name: Daffodil) – small golden tabby tom with yellow eyes

Sparrow – brown tabby tom with one blue eye and one yellow

Sorrow – willowy she-cat with a wraithlike gray tabby pelt, one blue eye and one silver

Amber – thin ginger she-cat, white paws, with green eyes

Rowan – older guard, mentor to Declan

_Workers: _

Vivian – tiny white she-cat, blue eyes, once a pet, captured

Bracken – brown tom with a ripped ear, dead?

Kip – black she-cat with yellow eyes, Viktor's mother, dying from sickness

**Gang:**

Braiser – Twist's father, former leader until she pushed him off a cliff

Spirit – Twist's mother, beautiful tortoiseshell-and-white, took the fall for Braiser's death and left the gang to go down the mountain

Stripes – gray tabby tom with yellow eyes, current leader

Hazard – tabby tom, Stripes' second

**Others**:

Iago – white tom with dark blue, nearly violet eyes.

* * *

Twist felt stunned.

His eyes, after lingering on her for one heart-stopping second, moved coolly to the cats behind her. "Come on, then," he was saying. "Budge up. Keep moving. You're all on nest-collecting duty. I'll be overseeing you today. Let's go. Keep it going now."

_By the stars,_ Twist thought dully, her paws falling into step. She could not take her eyes off of him, even as he paid her no attention at all. _Declan is here. Declan is in the middle of Sorrow's camp. Declan looks like a guard. He can't be a guard. This can't be happening._

But it was. He led the way, side by side with the older guard. His thick, beautiful russet fur was completely plastered with the mud, matting it up into sticky waves on his back and neck. His tail swished rather stiffly along as he paid attention to the guard acting as his mentor, his brow furrowed in concentration.

_He's come to free me,_ Twist thought. She felt an immediate surge of fierce affection in her chest, as if a fire had been lit beneath her ribs. _He's come to take me away from here. I knew he would come for me._

Declan had been on her mind constantly since becoming trapped here. Like a distant, flickering flame, the Declan's warming glow had kept her heart from becoming chilled over like a frozen stream. It was the thought of him that had kept her above the surface in this wretched enemy hollow.

Seeing him with her eyes now was a gift far beyond her wildest imaginations.

_Okay, _Twist thought as she wove her way between a pair of cats. _He must have this all figured out to have worked to the top of the guards like this. Sorrow only lets a few guards stay here, and they all have to pass her tests. I've seen as much watching the schedules change all this time. He's earned their trust somehow. I just need to know exactly how so we can exploit it. _

The plan was already unfolded before her eyes. She and Declan would escape from this place, quickly and agilely, due to his planning and her watchfulness.

_But what about Vivian? _A voice began to nag in the back of her mind. _What about Kip? She could meet her grandkits. _

_They can come too, _she argued with the voice. _We can get all the workers we can to leave. _

_But then what? _the voice challenged. _The Rogue will lead his cats back to the Sliders again and again. You won't be able to stop the rising tides. _

_I won't need to, _she reasoned with herself, sidestepping a deep hole in the ground. Hopping on to the other side, she thought, _If I can get far enough away from this place, I won't need the Sliders. This is none of my concern. It's been going on far too long for one cat to do anything about it. _She knew about gang politics: she'd had to endure it for long enough back with her own gang. It was something she knew to keep her nose out of if she wanted to keep her heart beating.

Declan and the other guard stopped at the crest of the grassy hill, turning around to face the six or so workers they had gathered.

"You will be working here today," Declan informed them. "Please make sure to stay within the set boundaries. If you step foot into the water, it will not be good for you. Let's have a nice working period with no transgressions, please. Thank you." He had the polite affectations of the other guards, his smooth familiar voice unmarked by any sort of deceit.

_He's gotten better at lying, _Twist noticed with a rare bit of pleasure. It seemed like it had been forever since she'd felt anything in this dismal place. Scurrying over to a place filled with the long tufty grass, she bent her head to work, keeping her eyes up and locked on Declan. He had his head turned politely toward the older guard and was murmuring to him, nodding his head and doing a good job of pretending.

He looked up and Twist locked eyes with him yet again. She felt a warm wave rush through her, flooding all the way down to the tip of her tail.

_Finally. _

This was what she missed, she realized. This comfort that only he brought to her. Just his presence alone made her feel alive in a way she hadn't for days and days on end.

Twist saw him coming towards her, so she ducked down to rip up a mouthful of grass again. She saw his muddied paws enter her vision. "Kept you long enough," she mewed quickly, keeping her voice low and muffled among the stems of grass. It wasn't the friendliest greeting in the world but it seemed that Declan's attendance in this suddenly brighter place had stopped the words in her throat.

"Yes," he agreed in the same muted voice, coming to a slow stop. His claws were extended slightly, gripping the grassy ground as if he was afraid of falling over despite the complete lack of wind.

"I was wondering when you were going to get here." She looked up at him, curious by his lack of tone. Had he not come here to rescue her? What else would explain his being here?

His eyes were looking in her direction lucidly. In any other cat, it would have seemed enough. But with Declan, it seemed…empty. Not the beaten down hollowness of Kip's ill eyes, but empty somehow. Like the cat that he was following.

It was like he wasn't even Declan.

"You shouldn't speak so familiarly with me," he said, and now a note of annoyance replaced the vacancy in his voice. "You're a worker. I'm a guard. Keep working."

Twist blinked. "What?" she asked, her throat suddenly feeling constricted. "What are you saying?"

He narrowed his eyes. As the sun passed over them as he bent his head forward aggressively, Twist could see that they were indeed Declan's eyes: that dark, glowing green. The first real green she had ever seen in her life. She was sure she would remember that shade until she died.

He bared his teeth slightly. "Back to work," he growled. "Don't make me tell you again." He turned in that moment and stalked back towards the other guard, his hackles raised along his spine. He spun around when he reached the other tom's side, his eyes darkened as he looked obstinately away from her.

Twist felt like she couldn't move. She just stared after Declan as if she'd seen a ghost, her heart beating with dull, numb thuds within her chest.

Her head turned seemingly of its own accord back to the grass. Her stomach felt like it had been filled with icy slush, and she could feel her pulse beating thickly in her neck.

What had just happened?

If he was faking, he was doing a remarkably credible job, Twist thought as she slowly plucked grass. But why would he need to? They had been far enough away from the other guard to not be overheard or watched too closely—the grass was too high for that. Then why is it that he was acting like he wasn't himself?

_Was that not Declan? _The inner voice was back, now skeptical again. _It looked like him, but he would never look at you with such coldness. Declan would never threaten you, never bare his teeth at you. Why would he be acting out here with no one to convince? _

Twist didn't want to get back to work, not when her mind was in such a turbulent rush of thoughts. There was an ache behind her eyes that went more than tiredness now: Twist was back in survival mode. The whiplash from her emotions was overpowering now. All she wanted was to sink into that smooth cool water without a splash or a sound, just like the rotten weeds she'd cleaned earlier. Would everything be better down in that deep abyss ringed with darkness?

In her mind's eye, another entirely different abyss flashed. She shivered as the recollected echo of her father's last scream reverberated in her memory, along with the fading glare of his yellow eyes. Her eyes.

She shook her head violently, earning nothing from it but an increased headache and a warning glare from the other guard. Declan still refused to look at her.

So quick to betray her. A traitor hiding behind a friendly face. Just like Snit.

That rational part of her mind was slowly explaining this to her, screaming at her to accept it. The other, more overpowering part of Twist was screaming the opposite. Whatever his faults and internal struggles, Declan was her friend. Her best friend. The only one in the woods, the mountains, the entire world that she totally and completely trusted with her whole heart, the heart that he had revived from its hard, dead existence.

She had to consider Declan a traitor now, an enemy. For whatever reason, he had turned on her. And despite the bile that rose in her throat, she had to accept it. Whether it killed her or not.

When the workday was done and dusk was falling, the workers were allowed to go back to Sorrow's camp. Burdened with heavy bundles of grass yet again, Twist felt her neck ache under the strain. _I guess this is what I get, _she thought with a huff, shouldering the bundle a little more sturdily across her shoulders. _This is what I get for allowing myself a little speck of hope. Hope only lets you down. It only makes you weaker. If I want to escape this place, I have to do it myself. Like I'd planned. I can't rely on anyone. _Her eyes shifted to Declan, and she felt a hollow pang in her chest, worse than her headache. _No one._

In that moment of distraction, her paw caught in a rut in the ground. She tumbled to the ground, hitting the ground and losing her breath from the impact. As she lay on the ground, her carefully-constructed grass collection falling all around her in long feathery stems, Twist just wanted to give up. She didn't want this to continue forever, for the rest of her life. Especially not now with the added benefit of Declan's cold and vacant presence.

"Get up!" It was the older guard. He kicked out at her with a hind paw, landing a solid blow against Twist's ribcage. With her breath already stolen by the fall, she felt practically nothing. Even as he hit again, this time tipped with claws. Twist felt a warm trickle of blood soak into her fur, matting it together into a clump, but still didn't move.

By now, the rest of the workers had crowded around. Twist watched them with dull eyes. In her air-deprived haziness, they looked like they were excited by this newest change in events—this punishment of one of their own. If it was her on the ground getting a guard's frustration via claws, it wasn't one of them. They were safe.

For now, anyway.

The guard sliced at Twist's shoulder this time with his front claws. "Get on your feet!" he hissed. "Or I swear that I will kill you. Get up! Up!"

But Twist just couldn't. She couldn't. She didn't want to.

Her eyes found Declan's in the midst of a red wave of agony. He was watching with a slightly pained expression, wincing every time the guard slashed at Twist's pelt. His ears were flat, his fur up around his shoulders. He didn't look away, even as Twist held his gaze for moments straight.

_Declan._ Her lungs didn't have enough air to support even the single word. Her mouth shaped the sound of it but she couldn't form it.

The guard raised his claws for another strike.

Twist closed her eyes.

"Stop!"

Her eyes shot open.

Declan was standing directly in front of her, green eyes wide and wild. He was breathing heavily as if he'd been running, and after a tense moment, he said, "You were going to kill her!"

The other guard, thrown onto the dusty ground, got to his feet. His chest swelled with fury even as his eyes flashed. "You idiot!" he spat. "What's wrong with you? This is just a worker! She doesn't have any worth to any of us. She can be easily replaced."

Declan, who hadn't looked away from Twist's face—judging from the ice still running through her blood, a rational corner of Twist's mind thought that she must look as astonished as he did—finally turned to the other guard. "She's still a cat, isn't she? Just like you. Just like them." He swallowed. "Just like me. You can't allow this to go on."

The guard stomped up to him, his teeth bared. "And what happens if I tell the master about this?"

The other workers, still carrying their loads of grass, watched the exchange with glinting eyes. This was probably the most exciting thing they'd seen in a long time, Twist thought dimly.

Declan gritted his teeth. "Then I'll tell him you've been sneaking rations from the prey-pile. And the fact you're abusing workers."

"The master doesn't care about a single worker," the guard sneered.

"Maybe not," Declan acquiesced. "But Sorrow certainly does."

The guard's eyes widened. "You'd rat me out to Sorrow?"

"I'd rat out anyone who thought they could harm another cat this way. That she-cat did nothing to you. She was obeying orders. Sorrow will understand that."

Ears flattened against his head, the guard stood his ground for a tense heartbeat more. Then he whirled to face the other workers—many of who jumped as if he'd lashed out at them—yowling, "What are you lot looking at? Pick up the grass and get moving before you all end up like her!"

They all disappeared into the gloomy overhanging branches, the ground becoming blanketed by a thick layer of rolling twilight fog. When they disappeared, leaving a swirling wake, Twist began to struggle to her paws.

"Here." Declan gently bent to nose her into a sitting position.

She snatched herself away from him, hissing furiously. "Don't touch me!" she snarled.

Declan recoiled as if she'd struck him. He stared at her for a moment longer before his thick tail slowly drooped to the ground. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "We aren't all like him."

"We? You mean guards?" She let out a harsh crack of laughter. "Don't make me sick. You're not one of them!"

Declan's ears flattened at that. "Don't presume to know me," he growled. "Remember, I'm a guard."

"Stop it."

"It's the truth."

"No, it's not!" she snapped. Sitting up now, feeling her head swirl with dizziness, Twist put out a paw to hold herself up. "You're not like them. You're not one of the Claws. Don't you… Why are you doing this to me? Why are you pretending like you don't know me? No one's around! You can drop the act, Declan!"

He flinched violently at the mention of his name. "W-what? Who…who do you think I am?"

Twist stared at him incredulously. "Declan," she said again, this time slower and softer.

He blinked at her. That cloudiness in his vision had lifted somehow, revealing a confusion that was so deep that Twist felt herself drowning in it. "That's…that's not my name. I'm not Declan. I'm not. You're wrong." Then he turned his head sharply to the side, a groan rising in his throat. Through gritted teeth, he hissed, "Stop it. Stop. I know what you're trying to do. He told me you would try to wheedle something out of me. I'm not Declan! I'm not him. You're wrong! You're completely wrong! He told me about this. He told me a she-cat would try this on me. A worker. You must be her."

_He?_ Twist turned away from him, feeling the hair raise along the back of her neck. "Declan," she whispered, eyes flickering between his pained expression and his agonized green eyes. "Declan, what did they do to you?"

"Stop!" he yowled. Now he got to his paws, that uncharacteristic ferocity back in his eyes. "Get moving ,worker! I don't have time to deal with you!" Without waiting for her to follow him, he turned and plunged into the fog. It parted for him like a stone dropped into water and he was soon gone.

Twist watched him go, whatever left of her heart sinking. _Declan, _her mind was mourning. _Declan, what's wrong with you? Why are you pretending so strongly? _

She could run, she realized. The brook behind her was bubbling peacefully around Sorrow's island. She could run and take a leap into the water, swim through it as well as she could to the other side. It was possible. She could make it.

But Declan…

Something was wrong here. Something worse than she had imagined.

And whatever it was, it had ensnared Declan. It had its claws sunk so deeply into him that he couldn't even recognize himself so far down in the darkness.

Twist walked back to camp.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She managed to slip into camp with only the merest of reprimands—apparently, Declan must have had some sort of control over these younger camp guards, because they didn't even seem to be surprised at her coming in alone.

Declan had been rounded up by Sorrow already. They were right behind her den, speaking in rapid, hushed voices.

Twist, still stinging from her wounds, immediately ducked around the corner of the den, pressing her back into the undergrowth. Not for the first time, she was grateful for her dark tortoiseshell pelt: she was nearly undetectable amongst the fronds of the dark color of the approaching cold-season bracken.

"Explain this, please." Sorrow's voice was a cold snap. "Rowan, why is it that this novice reported you attacking a worker?"

"I wasn't aware of that fact," Rowan said slowly. Twist couldn't see his face but she was sure it was blank—though from the slow drawl of his voice, she was sure he was raring to rip Declan's pelt next.

"The fact that you attacked a worker or that Declan informed me of that fact?" When Rowan was silent, Sorrow went on scathingly, "You know, I trusted you, Rowan. You said that you were up to the task of helping our newest member and you failed. You didn't just failed me: you failed the master. And don't think I'll keep that information from him. You'll lucky to be working the pits after all this is over." She paused, allowing her words to sink in. Then, in a softer though no less threatening voice, she added, "It's back to the needles for you, Rowan. I don't have room for transgressors in my camp. Now get out."

"The worker refused to keep up!" Rowan hissed. "It was that dark little one, Twist. The one from the mountains!"

"The mountains!" Declan echoed, sounding confused. "No cat's from the mountains. Not anyone but—"

"Silence!" Sorrow hissed. "Don't make me give you the same punishment, Leo."

_Leo? _Twist felt paralyzed. Leo was the name of other cat that lived with Declan when he was a pet. He had told her stories about him and how aggressive and lazy he was. Why would he be going by that name?

Declan's voice was soft. "I'm sorry, Sorrow. I won't speak out of turn again."

"See that you don't," she responded coldly. "As for you, Rowan. Make sure you tell the one in charge of your punishment, or I'll make you regret being kitted. Now get out of my sight."

Twist heard Rowan murmur a muted agreement before walking away, his pawsteps falling heavily on the sandy ground. _I need to get out of here! _she realized suddenly, scuttling backwards into the clearing right as Rowan walked by.

His marked eyes found hers and his lip curled just slightly, enough to expose his ragged yellowed teeth. Then he broke the glare and exited the camp without another look back.

Twist followed him with her eyes, feeling an uneasy prickle down the back of her neck. He seemed to have more personality than the rest of the guards. Was that because Sorrow filled her camp with ones easily bent to her will?

"Twist, right?"

She wheeled around to see Sorrow standing there.

"Our little troublemaking worker," Sorrow said, though she didn't sound particularly upset. She put her head to the side as she stepped lightly forward. Her nose touched one of the places that was bleeding heavier than the rest and she asked, "Are you alright?"

Twist dropped her gaze to the ground. "I'll be fine," she responded hollowly. Fine in time, she hoped.

Sorrow's eyes flickered. "You're upset. I understand. What Rowan did was uncalled for and I have punished him for that. Another few moon cycles in the needles training rookies and cleaning their nests will put him straight, I'm sure. It's a good thing Leo was there or Rowan could have carried on too far. You have him to thank for your life."

_Don't I know it, _Twist thought dully.

Sorrow sniffed at Twist's pelt. "You need attention for those. Come with me," she ordered. She turned and padded a few steps, turning around to look at Twist with those pale marked eyes. "Come on."

Twist followed dutifully. She felt broken inside, fragmented somehow, and it worsened as she passed Declan. He was watching with that familiar green gaze, confusion and anger swirling in his eyes. She watched him for only a second more before it hurt to look at him.

Sorrow led the way through a grassy hollow to a portion of the camp Twist had never visited before. It was lush and green here, the sandy ground overgrown with yellowish grass that was fragrant and soft beneath her paws. In front of her, an old stump belonging to some formerly massive tree was hollowed out to create a little cave. Someone had thatched the roof with the very same grass she had collected earlier in the day, creating a roof to keep the rain out.

Sorrow called for someone and the ginger she-cat whom Twist had met the first day in the camp, Amber, appeared.

Amber padded lightly out of the den, stopping with a respectful nod to Sorrow. "What can I help you with?" she asked in a soft voice, her eyes trailing over to Twist and back.

"I need you and your lovely student to take care of this worker," Sorrow explained, with a wave of her tail to Twist's wounds. "She was injured by Rowan earlier today."

Amber's eyes darkened. "I told you about him," she sniffed. "He's no good for anyone."

"I know," Sorrow said rather testily. "I don't need you to tell me that."

Amber tossed her head slightly, as if Sorrow's sharp temperament had rubbed off on her. "He wasn't even marked. How can he be in the guards if he's not marked?"

Sorrow looked away. "Being marked isn't the greatest thing in the world," she grumbled. Twist noticed again how astonishingly pale the gray tabby's eyes were: one dully glinted silver. "It just adds more trouble to a cat's life. Anyway, get to it. I'll leave her in your capable paws."

"Alright," Amber said warily, watching Sorrow disappear out of the den before turning to Twist. "I know you. I gave you your first mission. The nursery, right?"

"R-right." Twist was watchful of this she-cat's friendliness. As she knew, amicability could change in an instant right into violence.

"Well, you can just calm right down, Twist. I'm not one of them. I came here to heal and that's all." She looked over her shoulder back toward the stump and called, "Bring me some cobwebs and marigold!"

Twist followed her line of sight, waiting for a broad-chested guard to come prowling out. Instead, she felt a low blow of surprise to her belly as she realized she recognized Amber's apprentice.

"Okay," he stammered, sending the pile of carefully picked up leaves to the ground. "Ah, mousedung," he spat, picking them up quickly and hurrying over. "Okay. Okay. I got them now. Marigold for infection, cobwebs to stop the bleeding, I've brought some thyme for the"—he looked up finally, eyes widening as he gasped and his sentence trailed off—"…for the shock... By the stars! Twist?"

Her eyes widened. _Flint?_

The pale tabby Slider looked a little embarrassed, his ears flat against his head and one paw raised in silent placation. Twist was astonished: she hadn't seen any of the group she'd come with since they took her out of the pits. She had assumed they'd been killed—Beck already had been days and days ago.

Amber looked between them, polite confusion coming over her features. "Do you know each other?"

"Uh," Flint trailed. "No, no. I just recognize her from the worker pools. You know, it's hard to misplace someone with such a specific pelt. I mean, look at her! Who else has such a dark tortoiseshell pelt? It's pretty, right? Very pretty. You should, um, take good care of it. They say that rubbing moss on your pelt keeps it nice and shiny. Have you done that before, uh…you said your name was Twist, right? Right, uh, Twist?"

Amber watched him sharply for a moment, then seemed to just give up. She patted his shoulder with her tail as she walked by. "I'll leave this one in your capable paws, Flint. Try not to embarrass yourself too badly." Then, in a softer voice, added, "You know, it's much quieter in the back behind the den. You might want to take her back there where the outside noise won't disturb her. I swear, you can talk about anything back there and no one will hear you." She patted his shoulder again and was gone.

Flint turned back to Twist, a sudden eagerness in his eyes. "Can you walk back there? I'll bring this"—he nodded to the herbs—"and meet you there. It's right beneath those soft fronds, okay?"

Twist found the place easily and lowered herself into the mud-scented nest with more than a little disgust. This was obviously where they treated the guards.

Flint appeared a moment later. He set the herbs on the ground and went to work, expertly parting the fur on her flank with a paw. "Just hold still, Twist," he said gently, with a calmness that was entirely unlike the scatterbrained tom she had known in her time as a Slider.

He placed a wad of chewed up herbs on the scratches, which immediately soothed the irritated skin. Twist let out a soft sigh of pleasure before she could stop herself.

Flint heard and let out a purr. "Nice, right? Wish we could have this stuff all the time back at the Warren. Snit knew a lot about herbs but he never really taught anyone. I'm sure they're all at a loss now, what with him being a Claw after all." He was so casual about the whole ordeal that it made Twist's headache return full-force.

"Flint, what's going on here?" she asked in a low frantic whisper. "I don't understand it. I don't want to be here. I want to go home. I want—" She bit off her sentence before hysteria could overcome her.

Flint frowned just the tiniest bit. Pressing harder on the wounds, making Twist hiss in pain, he said in a low voice, "I know. I know it's hard, Twist, but you just have to stick it out here. They're really not that bad, the Claws—"

"Not that bad?" she repeated in a hiss. "They're not that bad? Are you _insane? _Do you not see what's going on? What they're doing here? What they've done to the Sliders? What they did to _me_? Look at me, Flint! I'm slashed to ribbons because my paw got caught in a hollow!"

His eyes didn't leave her cuts, though he looked a little more uneasy. "It's not like you think, Twist," he said infuriatingly. "It just looks that way. You're not seeing the whole picture here."

"The whole picture?" Twist felt like raking her claws down his face. "Then what is the whole picture, Flint?"

He was still not looking at her. "The Claws aren't…well, they're not going about it the right way, but—I mean, it's very…difficult to—"

"Just spit it out," she said crossly. She heaved herself up into a painful slouch to glare at him. "You're one of them now, aren't you? You and Declan too." Her voice held all the bitterness that was making her heart sick.

Flint finally looked at her then, a mournful look in his eyes. "Yeah," he said softly. "They got him, too."

"Too? You mean you?"

He shook his head. "Lightfoot. They got her. They had to work so hard to make it work, though. They have to give her extra sessions to keep her tamed. She's too wild for their usual treatment."

_Treatment? _She blinked.

Flint looked towards Amber's den, then leaned forward. "They're doing things to the cats here, Twist," he said in a rapid, hushed voice. "They're brainwashing them. I know. I've seen it." He swallowed hard. "And I've helped. They knew that I would be easily broken. They asked me to choose between myself and the rest of the group and, well…" He trailed off again, looking down at the mass of herbs smeared across his paws.

"You helped them," she said hollowly.

He took in a deep breath. "I want to help cats, Twist. I never meant to hurt anyone. Not you. Not Lightfoot. And not Declan. I…I didn't want to help with him. But when they caught him by the brook—"

"They _caught _him?"

Flint nodded miserably. "He was coming for you," he whispered. "For you. Not for anyone else. They told me when they captured him and put him in for treatment, he was calling for you. He was trying to save you."

"Then…then what happened to him? He's…he's so…"

"Different?" Flint supplied. "That's what the treatment does. That's why all the guards—well, the other ones, not Sorrow's guards—have that same expression. Like they're unconscious but standing. That's what the treatment does, Twist. It kills something inside a cat. Well, not kills," he backtracked quickly, seeing Twist's expression. "It's like they seal away anything that gives a cat a personality. That's what they did to him. Smoke treatment," he said, framing the words with almost no air.

"And…and it brainwashes them?"

He nodded.

Twist thought for a moment, looking over at the exit to the den. "Can it be reversed?" she asked almost silently.

Flint's head dropped even more until it hung below his shoulders. "I don't know," he admitted. "I've never seen it done so well before. Declan's treatment was…a complete success. Sorrow knew about him and wanted to try out one of the master's new soldiers. So far, he's everything she wants. Obedient to her and her only." When Twist looked away and took in a sharp breath, Flint went on softly, "But there's hope, Twist. Don't think there isn't. It's a good sign that he's loyal to Sorrow."

"How so?" she demanded, her voice so harsh that it broke. "How could that possibly be a good thing? Declan loyal to a monster."

He shook his head quickly. "Sorrow isn't a monster, Twist. She's trying to change things. You should be grateful you were put in her camp and not anywhere else. I've seen the other camps, Twist. They're…they're awful."

"What about the rest of our group?" she demanded, quickly wanting to change the subject. "What about River? Gravel?"

"They're fine. Gravel's in the needles hunting for the recruits. River works the pits. They haven't undergone treatment. Probably never will. They don't have what the master is looking for."

"And Lightfoot? And Beck, is he really dead?"

"Lightfoot is in the master's camp. It's called the cliffs. A huge place riddled through with holes and tunnels like a real rabbit's warren. It's nearly impossible for a cat to escape if they don't know the way."

Twist fell silent again. Flint went back to work on her, gently placing long strips of soaked grass on her scratches. She closed her eyes, allowing him to tend to her. "Have you undergone treatment, Flint?"

His answer was a little slow in coming. "No," he said finally. "I haven't."

"And Amber? She knows that?"

"That I'm a Slider?" he filled in with a trace of dryness. "Yes. She was once in a position similar to mine. She recognized that in me and offered me a job as her apprentice."

"And now you heal the cats that maimed your brother."

Flint sighed. "It's complicated, Twist. Things are complicated here. It's not as simple as it looks. This isn't good versus evil. It never comes down to that. There's more here than that. Something that goes deeper than right and wrong."

After he fell silent again, Twist felt very young. Like she was a kit again up in the mountains. She had to rely on this cat, the one everyone assumed was a bumblepaws back in the Warren. Here, Flint had taken on a new role—almost a guiding light. Wiser. Stronger. And ultimately, more confusing. Whose side was he really on?

And whose side was Declan on?

It rushed back and forth in Twist's aching head until Flint offered her seeds to help her sleep. She lapped them up in one swipe, feeling them settle down into her empty stomach. Flint, without any prompting, lowered himself onto his belly, keeping watch for her. His tail swished rhythmically along the ground, back and forth and back and forth in an unbroken sweep like gusting wind.

And for the first time in a long time, Twist slept peacefully.

* * *

**Pretty long, right? I wrote this all in one sitting, too. I felt rather accomplished after, so I allowed myself another Dew. I do love the Dew - oh yes I do.**

**-rimshot-**

**Anyway, I have a surprise for you guys. Not the GLaDOS non-surprise kind, but a real one. It should be prepared in a couple hours or so, depending on how long it takes me to put the finishing touches on it. XD**

**And now back to reality which is, sadly, not nearly as fun as fiction. Sigh. If only life could be books.**

**Anyway.**

**You know what to do.**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	20. Chapter 20

**Surpriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiise! Update number two in a day. WHAT NOW?**

**I told you guys I could do it. You doubted me. Pfft! **

**Just kidding. Love you guys.**

**No review replies. It's been too quick. So for those speedies that read chapter nineteen already...you're awesome. XD I'll save 'em for this chapter's batch of reviews.**

**Enough yakking!**

**Onto the story!**

* * *

As soon as Declan was dropped in front of the Rogue's paws, still soaked to the bone from the icy brook, he knew he was done for. The powerful cat in front of him, battle-scarred brown tabby fur and mismatched eyes, was a formidable enemy too powerful for him to fight alone. To fight him along with his mud-slicked cronies, it would be suicide.

The Rogue was nothing like Declan had thought. He was strong in shoulders, his rippling fur shiny with good health. His claws were long and unsheathed even as he walked, several steps in front of his group, and his tail was high and confident. He didn't wear a mud coating like the rest of them.

Declan was being dragged along the ground. He refused to help with his own bodyweight, hoping and praying that they would consider him too much of a hassle and just release him. Those hopes were smashed to pieces as soon as he saw a huge rock rise out of the ground.

It was taller than ten cats put together and completely and unnaturally round. Declan marveled at the sight of it: could something like that be truly created by cats' paws? It looked entirely too housefolk-made to be out here in the woods.

"Put him in," the Rogue said in a deep rasp. He turned to look at them, eyes glinting. "And ready the treatment." His eyes shifted to Declan, growing even brighter in the gloom. "We will have a nice little warrior for our own soon."

"Yes, Master." The six toms moved at the same moment with the same respectful bow, speaking in a single low voice. The effect was chilling.

The Rogue nodded. Before he walked away, he bent close to Declan's face, his breath stinking of blood from his last kill, and growled, "We will see how much you tell us about the she-cat from the mountains. I think we might even be friends one day. That is, after you have settled down a little. You are far too wild. Just like a Slider." He sounded distasteful. "Goodbye, my sons. Please keep up the hard work." Then he was gone, disappearing into the thick grass.

The six toms hauled Declan back to his feet, but he'd had enough. Hissing explosively, Declan whirled and sank his teeth into the cat next to him, biting deep enough to feel the burst of blood in his mouth. Deaf to the tom's scream of agony, he bit deeper, worrying the skin back and forth until he felt another cat sink his claws into his spine, pulling him away. He spun to the side then, dancing backwards on his hind legs, leaving his front paws open for slashing. He split open the nose of the cat that came after him next, sending a spray of blood into the air. The cat, howling, recoiled backwards, shying around on the edge of the forest.

Declan crouched, claws bloody, head bent, waiting for the next cat to approach.

With a yowl, a young tom flew at him. Declan barely had to move to shift aside, allowing the cat to soar just past him. He turned and slammed his claws down on the guard's belly, pummeling the soft skin beneath until the cat screamed. Leaping sideways, he avoided the next slash, redoubling the attack with one of his own. It hit the tom right on the head and he dropped to the ground, senseless.

Now that one of them was down and three were injured, there were only one was left. A huge ugly tom with filmy eyes of two different colors. Now that Declan thought about it, the other guards had similar eyes. _Maybe it's a ranking or something, _he thought, baring his teeth.

The guard raised his muddied tail. "You're to come with us, Declan."

"No," he snarled in return, extended a paw and exposing his claws, sharp and powerful from so much hunting for the Sliders. "I won't. Not until you tell me what's going on here! Where is the Rogue going? Where are you taking me? And where's Twist?" His heart disjointedly beating in his chest, Declan felt a surge of protective instinct that almost overwhelmed him.

Somewhere out in these woods, Twist was alone and frightened. Shadows were abundant under these heavy-branched trees. She would be helpless to her fear. Without him there to protect her.

Declan hissed furiously at the guard, daring him closer.

"Enough!"

Declan pitched forward into the dirt, sending loose soil up his nose again. Wheezing and coughing, his nose and mouse on fire, he felt himself be picked up once again, heaved forward by the scruff of his neck. It must have been the one he'd knocked out, Declan reckoned through an aching head and a painful row of slices down his side. That tom was the only one who had not been in Declan's sight.

They tossed Declan onto the ground after a few struggling pawsteps. He hit the ground on a patch of rough rock, crushing the breath from his body. He curled in on himself, eyes watering in pain, and looked up just in time to see the guards shoving something heavy across the doorway.

Forcing the pain back, Declan staggered to his paws. As soon as all four were on the ground, Declan felt his head pulse with agony so strong it nearly sent him stumbling to the ground. He faltered over to the entrance just in time to watch the thing—it was a large sharp rock—grind to a stop in front of it, blocking him in total and complete darkness.

Declan immediately let out a howl of fury. He slammed his forepaws into the rock, shoving with all his might. The rock didn't budge even a whisker-width. Trying a new tactic, he stepped back several paces, tripping over loose rocks that tumbled around. Spinning around, he lashed out at the rock with his hindpaws, getting nothing but bloodied pads for his efforts. Now breathing heavily, he had nothing to do but brace his shoulder against the rock and heave, yowling curses to the toms who could be standing just on the other side, keeping him away from everything he held dear in the world.

_No! _His mind, his body, his entire being screamed the word. _This can't be happening! Why is this happening? I won't let this happen!_

But the stone didn't budge. And after a while, Declan didn't move either.

He was exhausted, dead-tired to the bone. His shoulder, chafed from shoving against the rock and from the attack by the guards, was dripping steadily with blood. Declan could feel a small puddle of it forming on the ground, making it sticky and slick.

Declan felt he might be sick.

He was in the small room forever. It had to have been longer than the night, well into the day after. The room, however, never changed. It remained dark, dark and enclosed and empty. A prison. A cage.

Declan snarled away from the thought of imprisonment. He had had enough of that being a pet. He was free now. Free and away from everything that had held him down to that place.

Only to have something else holding him in a new place.

Declan groaned low in his throat and pressed his forehead against the rock. "Move," he rasped. "You stupid piece of gravel. Move!"

"It won't move like that, Declan."

Declan whirled around. Squinting into the darkness, he demanded, "Who's there? Show yourself!"

"Even if there was light, you wouldn't be able to see me." The voice, a low guttural rasp, literally came from nowhere. It bounced on the rock walls until he couldn't pinpoint the direction.

Declan growled. He felt his hackles raise along his spine, a prickling sensation on his back. "Who are you?"

"A friend," the voice answered. "One to help you in this new place."

Declan laughed harshly before he could stop himself. "Help me!" he scoffed. "No one in this place has any intentions of helping me! You all just want to enslave us all! I know about the Claws. The Sliders told me all about you. All you want is blood. Nothing will ever stop that thirst."

"Declan, Declan, you have it all wrong." The voice was soothing, though with a lilt to it that sounded almost…familiar. Declan couldn't place it. "We're not the enemy. I'm not the enemy. I'm a friend. I will help you through this confusion you feel. My friend, all you need to do is ask for my help and you will receive it. Simple as that."

"Okay," Declan said, condescendingly slow. "Then let me go. Open this passageway. Lead me to what I want and then let me go. That's all I want."

"I'm afraid that is far beyond my limitations, friend."

"Stop calling me that. You're no friend of mine."

"No, but she is. Isn't she?"

Declan felt his heart stop for an instant. "I don't quite know what you're talking about," he said coldly, not allowing himself to drop his guarded stance.

"Oh, please. I know all about her, Declan. I know she's from the mountains. That she came from a gang of cats. Murderers and prey-thieves. I know she came down from that mountain and joined the enemy. Those you call Sliders. They are the ones out for blood, Declan. The Claws know nothing of terror or pain. We are a peaceful group."

"_Where is she?"_ Declan snarled viciously. His claws unsheathed of their own accord and his tail lashed behind him.

"If you calm that temper of yours, I will be happy to tell you. Please have a seat, Declan."

Growling venomously in his throat, Declan did not comply.

The voice sounded a bit more strained. "Declan, if this is going to work, you need to calm yourself. I'll let you see Twist. I'll let you be right near her, like you want. All you have to do is sit down. Alright?"

Slowly, insultingly so, Declan lowered himself into a sitting position. "I'm sitting down now," he informed the voice.

"I know," the voice said.

Suddenly, there was a new scent in the cave. It was sharp and spicy, tinged with something that made Declan's skin crawl.

"What's that?" he demanded quickly.

"Be calm, Declan," the voice said, a warning in its voice.

Declan, eyes locked in the direction of where the scent came from, saw a spark of something before he smelled it. Then, the instinctual urge to run away was nearly suffocating.

Fire.

It fell in through the ceiling somehow, landing with a hot sparking of kindling in the middle of the space. It lit up the walls, which were flickering somehow, as if the walls were glittering. Declan turned to look at them, seeing his own frightened muddy face in the reflection of the wall.

_A room full of stars, _was his first, wild thought.

_They've put something reflective on the walls, _came the second thought, sluggish through the adrenaline in his veins. _They've made a reflection room. _

The fire was dancing in the air, in the walls, on the ground. It was everywhere, flickering madly in Declan's eyes. The scent of it, the choking thickness of the smoke, was settling all around him now, barely below his nostrils. He coughed, gagging on the scent, on the texture of it on his tongue. It was suffocating him.

"Fire!" he screamed, running backwards until he hit the wall. The urge to escape worked its way from his chest up his throat, a keen coming through his fear-bared teeth. His claws raked down the walls, raising screeching sparks where his claws touched the reflection-stuff. The sound was driving him mad.

"Calm yourself, Declan. The fire will not reach you." Now the cat was clearly audible as a tom, an old-sounding one at that. He was in the room somewhere, Declan knew. Waiting here. For him. To kill him?

"To help you," the tom answered, and Declan knew with a surge of terror that he must be speaking aloud. "Declan, this fire will help you. Breathe in the smell of these herbs. They will calm you."

Declan, chest heaving with fear, could barely breathe normally, much less inhale the scent of burning herbs. "Let me out," he panted. "Let me out. I'm going to die! It's going to kill me! _It's going to kill me!"_

"Your fear of fire goes deeply beyond normal, does it not, Declan?" The tom had switched to a clinical tone that Declan usually would have found grating but now only found barely understandable. "What happened to you, Declan, to make you fear flames so much?"

Declan's eyes widened so much it felt like the fire was entering him through them. The flames were all he could see, all he could smell. With every pulse of his heart, Declan knew the fire was going to come closer, coming to get him, to singe his fur and burn his skin until he was just a pile of charred bones, of ash, of cinders—just like, just like, just like—

He took a deep breath as he fought down another wave of horror.

"That's right," the tom soothed. "Breathe deeply, Declan. Breathe deeply."

Declan forced himself to take another deep breath. The scent of the herbs, which he had found spicy before, now only seemed icy somehow. They stuck in the back of his throat like wet leaves, coating his tongue with the cooling taste of thyme. It really did feel better.

"Just like who, Declan?" the tom asked, his voice inexorably calm. "Who did the fire hurt, Declan?"

"Why…why do you keep repeating my name?" Declan asked, his throat constricted. He could not take his eyes off the fire.

"Answer the question, Declan. Who did the fire hurt?"

The fire… It was so long ago. Declan's eyes closed as he fought against the memory, this one that was so much worse than the others. The one he wished he could rip out of his mind like an infected thorn.

It had been after his fight with Leo. That last battle that had seemed to finally earn the old cat's respect.

_Declan was resting by the windowsill, his favorite place. From here, it was almost as if he was outside, not stuck in here with the weird cold smells even in the hot-season. The window was warm from the sun's dusky light, streaming onto the soft blanket Declan's housefolk had placed there just for him. _

_He heard heavy pawsteps approached and opened his eyes with a groan. "What do you want, Leo?"_

_"That spot." The old cat leapt onto it, treading heavily onto Declan's tail. "Budge up, kit. I've got these old bones to warm."_

_"I was here first. Go to another window."_

_Leo bared his teeth, twisted and yellowed. Before, Declan would have found this reason enough to move. _

_Not anymore._

_Declan shoved him back down to the ground. Despite his age, Leo hit the ground on all four paws, though he stumbled once he almost had his footing._

_Leo hissed up at him, back arched. "You little rat!" he spat. "You can't do that!"_

_Tucking his thick red-brown tail around his paws, Declan said loftily, "I think I just did."_

_Leo growled. Bending down and wiggling his haunches, he prepared to leap._

_Declan's eyes slid to the table in front of the window. His housefolk female had placed her fire-holders there. They flickered gently back and forth. These small fires had never alarmed him; he had seen her tend to them sometimes, lighting and snuffing them out easily. She had tamed these fires. Though from experience, Declan knew setting one's tail too close to them could earn a cat a burn or singed fur. He had done it himself by accident the first few days he was here, lighting a patch of fur the size of his eye on his flank. Leo had endlessly mocked him for it._

_Time to get even, he thought._

_So when Leo leapt, Declan waited until he had almost reached the top of the sill before shoving out with one paw. He hit Leo hard in the chest, knocking him backwards onto the table. With a yowl of surprise, Leo hit both fire-holders, knocking them onto the ground. One landed on his tail, setting the tip alight._

_Leo howled with shock._

_Their housefolk had been out for the day. Any other time, they would have come running to break up the fight and put out the fire._

_Not today._

_The fire had latched onto a corner of the rug, and was eating its way across the floor. Leo, running in circles and curling around to bat at the fire on his tail, didn't even notice the fire on the ground until it was too late. _

_He rolled over it and suddenly he was a fireball. _

_Declan watched in sick horror as Leo fled the room, screaming in agony, his back fur on fire. He followed, falling to the ground and barely missing the fire, which singed his pads. _

_In the other room, Leo had tried his usual trick: fleeing beneath their housefolk's sleeping place. Already, the sheet on top was ablaze._

_"Leo!" he screamed. He fled from the fire, backing up so quickly he fell over onto his side. Scrambling to put his feet back beneath him, he skidded until his flank pressed against the wall, the stuff on the surface peeling away like dead leaves. "Leo! Leo, can you hear me?"_

_Leo didn't respond. Declan couldn't hear anything over the fire, which was now cracking and roaring above him. Cinders were falling from the ceiling in this room._

_Declan fell to his belly and pawed his way forward, poking his head beneath the flaming sleeping place. The smoke was thick and choking here, stinging his eyes and throat. The taste of the fire coated his tongue foully, making him cough and retch. _

_"Leo!" he called weakly, his voice breaking between syllables. _

_He couldn't stay much longer in that place. The smoke would kill him before the fire got anywhere near him. Leo would have to fend for himself. _

_He flew out the doorway to the room, the fire curling above him like wings. The heat from it was enormous—Declan was afraid his pelt would light without even touching the fire. The smell of singed fur filled his nostrils the same instant as the sparking pain in his paws. He leapt straight into the air to avoid the pile of cinders, still flickering with flames. _

_In the main room, the fire was climbing up the walls. Declan stopped in the center of the rug, in an island of safe air. He stared up at the ceiling, looking almost flowerlike with savagely blooming petals. It was terrifyingly beautiful. _

_The window was open, allowing a small gap of clean air. Declan flew towards it, scraping his chest on the ledge as he squirmed through. He hit the ground running, fleeing between the slats of the white fence, now stained with soot, into the neighbor's yard, and then into the field beyond that. _

_He turned around when he got to the woods' edge, breathing heavily. Swallowing, his throat so dry, he looked back at the house. It was crowned with roaring red and yellow flames. _

_What have I done? he thought, disappearing into the trees' protective shade. _

_Declan didn't come back for days. He stayed out in the woods, not eating, not drinking, half out of his mind with terror and regret and overwhelmingly with shame. The smell of smoke clung to his fur. He cleaned and cleaned it, scraping the pelt with his tongue until it left bare patches of skin, but the smell did not ever go away. Declan thought it had sunk down inside him somehow. The scent was nauseating._

_Hunger drew him back eventually. He was starving, his paws too clumsy to catch the mice that darted beneath the coat of crunchy leaves. He thought that, if he pretended strong enough, the house would be just the same as before the fire. A safe place. Home._

_It wasn't._

_What had once been home was gone, a shattered, blackened mess of sticks and metal. The window that he had leapt out of was a clear, hard puddle, molded into the dip on the ground below it. Where the door was, a few sticks were still standing, outlining what had once been the same place his housefolk had let him out to bask in the sun._

_Inside was no better. It was unrecognizable. Destroyed beyond repair._

_Gone._

_He went to the room Leo had been in and called for him. The rubble was still smoking here, piled across the room in heavy, stinking mounds._

_Declan's paws crunched across the black grit. "Leo?" he called, his voice barely audible. The damage was so complete, so all-encompassing, that no one could have survived this. Not even the fat, powerful Leo._

_Declan searched beneath the remains of the bed, in the closets, in the kitchen, but found no trace of his grouchy companion. He called until his voice was hoarse but still there was no answer._

_Only when he looked in Leo's bed—the large and well-sunk-in one next to Declan's neat and tidy one—did he find him. And Declan had to fight back the bile that rose in his throat and turn away, breathing in once sharply. _

_Leo, too heavy to escape, had never even made it out of the house._

"Interesting," the voice repeated now, a faint untraceable hum in it. "So it is guilt that drives you, is it? Is that how you ended up in the mountains, Declan?"

Declan, eyes stinging and head swimming from the smoke and the fumes of the leaves, choked out, "Yes. I…I didn't want to live there anymore. There was nothing there, nothing. Nothing but smoke and soot and it was my fault." There, he had said it. After so many moon cycles, he had said it. Declan coughed weakly, feeling a stab of agony in his lungs, and said it again. "My fault. Leo died because of me. Because I was stupid. Because I was fed up with him and wanted to give him a taste of his own violence. I killed him. It was me. I did it. I killed him."

"Your friend."

"He wasn't my friend. I hated him. But I still killed him. He didn't deserve to die. He was old and crotchety and bad-tempered but he didn't deserve to die."

"No, but you caused his death," the voice said, still in that same inexorable voice. "That makes you responsible for it. A murderer."

"No," Declan gasped.

"Yes," the voice said. "Declan, Leo is dead because of you. If you had died instead, things would be better. Leo would still be alive."

"No," Declan whispered. He shook his head, thick and fuzzy from the smoke. It was making him sick. He was going to throw up.

There was a shifting of something, a dragging sound, flesh against rock, and the voice came louder. "There is a way things can be better. You can do something no one else could. For yourself. For Leo."

"No," Declan said once again, turning to press his cheek against the cool stone. Maybe a bit of air would pass through the cracks and clear his head. It was the only chance of getting out of here.

The light of the fire burned brighter. It sparked behind his closed eyelids. It seemed to be everywhere—leaping, crawling, racing, chasing.

Devouring.

And he would be next.

"Declan," the voice said again, now with a deadly seriousness in his voice. "Sleep. Sleep and dream of what you wish you could take back. Sleep and dream of your worst nightmares. I will help you. I promised you I would. Now sleep."

"I can't," Declan whispered.

"You can. I will help you. Help me, and I will help you out. The thing that you desire most is well within your reach."

Declan turned to him. Through the thick haze of smoke and the mad dancing of the light reflected off every surface, he thought he could make out a pair of golden eyes watching him. "Twist," he breathed.

The cat's eyes narrowed, glittering brightly. "Twist," he agreed.

Declan turned toward him. His limbs felt shaky and weak but he forced them to hold his weight. "What do you need me to do?" he asked.

The cat's eyes seemed to glow even brighter.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"My name is Rowan. You'll be training with me from now on. The master is awaiting you."

The cat looked at Rowan. He was covered with a thick layer of mud, though even it could not cover the thick scar across his nose, still healing; his eyes were two different colors.

"The master's waiting for me?" The cat was stunned. From what he had heard, the master of the Claws was _the_ cat to meet and impress. He had been training for the chance to be a guard for the Claws ever since he had heard all the wonderful things about them.

Rowan paced around him, eyes clinically watching. "Your russet fur will be easily covered with mud. Those eyes, however, should be marked. Two colors." He gestured with his tail to his own eyes, which were yellow and blue.

The cat blinked. "The old cat who sent me here told me I would be fine as a guard, though." He couldn't hold back his disappointment.

Rowan shook his head. "If the master asked for you, he must know about you. Come on, now." Rowan paused then, looking over at the cat with a strange, speculative look on his face. "Before we go, can I ask your name, friend?"

The cat nodded. "My name is Leo."

They walked away, though Leo could detect a strange scent in the air. He turned to Rowan and asked, "Has there been a fire close to here? I smell smoke."

Rowan started. "Uh, yes. A few nights ago. The needles—a pine forest—had a short fire. The master organized the guards out of that area. It must be on my fur still."

"Huh. I guess." Leo was skeptical but he didn't tell Rowan that. The guard seemed truthful enough; the old cat had told Leo that the guards were a rather strange lot, though trustworthy completely. He warned him not to ever disobey the orders of another guard.

"Come on, Leo," Rowan said, taking the lead. "The master is waiting for us."

Leo followed obediently, remembering the old cat's words, though the smell still bothered him. _I wonder why?_

The two cats disappeared into the forest, leaving behind a wake poisoned with the smell of smoke and sharp herbs.

* * *

**Woooooooooo! Now you know what happened to Declan.**

**Kinda mean, right? I'm mean to these poor little kitties. XD**

**But without being mean, it wouldn't be nearly as fun!**

**Anyway.**

**You know the drill.**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	21. Chapter 21

**And again. I'm really getting into the swing of this updating thing, aren't I? XD**

**Queen of the Pens - Aaw. Am I being too mean to poor little Declan? X3**

**Crowstorm - Hee~ I don't think I can torment you reader-type-people with his being off for much longer. Just a bit more. =3**

**Amazingly awesome person - Aaaaw, AAP-chaaaan~ I don't want you to cry! And I secretly think my dog Harley is evil, too. He gets this look in his eyes sometimes when he's watching something - just stares and doesn't blink. EVER. Haha! No worries! For I have another update for you right now! :D**

**LegendaryHero - Your reviews are always so long. I do so much enjoy the long reviews, I have to say. But the allegiences thing...come on, dude. I'm sure the 200 words it took for me to make a list of cats totally took away from the 6,700 long chapter I wrote. :P Repeating myself over and over within the text doesn't always seem to work out even for the best authors. And it's pretty much the only strand of canon left in my fics these days - that and the sole existance of this could-have-been Twist, who really only had like four appearances in one book, sadly enough. And I was gonna cut it off at the "My name" part but then I was like...naaaaahhh. That would be too cliche. It's cliche enough that I have it in there in the first place, I think. XD**

**Smokefrost - Yeaaaaah. See, the problem with my poor little Shadow brain is that I don't remember a lot of the canon now. I remembered that thyme leaves were used for calming, so I thought that could like mix with the scariness of fire and make...trippiness. XD My Tomato + Lizard = 48 logic doesn't always pull through, does it? XD**

**Tangleflame - Yeah. They're not very happy at the moment, are they? XD**

**Enough drivel!**

**Onto the story~**

* * *

Twist groaned. Her head was aching, and even before she opened her eyes, she detected something was amiss. Her nest, generally made out of the stiffest stems that even the guards didn't want, seemed to be crafted completely out of soft moss and feathers. Her nostrils twitched at the harsh smell of herbs.

When she opened her eyes, Flint was staring at her. His yellow eyes were so close to hers she had to go cross-eyed to see him. She yelped, recoiling back into a sitting position.

Flint laughed. "So you _were _awake!"

Twist glared at him, fur bristling still. "What was the point of that?" she demanded. "Couldn't you have been a little gentler about it?" She sank to her belly again, heart racing.

"Come on," he teased. "You haven't had fun in a long time, I'm sure." A pile of herbs dropped in front of her. "Eat up. Sorrow wants to meet with you when you're done."

"She does?" Twist's stomach roiled with uneasiness. "What for?"

Flint, not looking at her, said, "I'm not privy to that kind of information."

She didn't believe him for a second. "What's going on, Flint?"

He twisted his mouth uncertainly. Then, looking back over his shoulder, whispered, "They say he's coming here today. The master."

Twist's heart plummeted. "What?" she demanded in a low hiss. "What for?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. Amber thinks he's coming to see for Ruby's kits. I don't know why, because they're not even ready to be born yet."

"The Rogue does come and see the new kits, does he?" she murmured thoughtfully. She remembered Vivian telling her something similar.

Flint looked uncomfortable again. "You shouldn't call him that. Call him the master."

"I would rather rip out my tongue than ever use that word," she spat, turning her head sharply to the side. "He's not my master. He's nothing to be but an enemy. Like an adder."

Flint let out a humorless hum. "You're right about that," he said, surprising her. "He's poisoning these cats. All for revenge on Lucky."

"Revenge? What did Lucky ever do to him?" she asked.

Flint put one ear back behind him. "I don't know, really. They don't tell me. The healers are a pretty low-rank here. But I know that he's devoted his entire life to killing Lucky. He doesn't let anything get in the way of that…obsession. That's why he targets the Sliders so often. I always thought the attacks were random but he is very meticulous. And smart. He's the smartest cat I've ever met besides Lucky." Now his other ear flipped back, too. "He knows things, Twist. Things a cat shouldn't know. He doesn't think normally. It's almost like… I don't know. Like he thinks like a no-pelt or something. Isn't that crazy?"

Twist thought back to the things she had seen in the Warren—arching metal tubes, no-pelt boxes made into nests, that strange shell water-collector that ran on technology she didn't understand. Lucky's mind was truly a terrifyingly powerful weapon.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "Flint, do you know Kip?"

"Viktor's mother?" he asked. "Yeah. She has to come in here often. I try to fix that cough of hers, but…" He trailed off, his eyes downcast.

"She told me she was one of the first Sliders. Back when Wisp first made it. Lucky was just a kit then."

"Yeah. Wisp is an old cat." He didn't sound as affectionate as he had before, though: something that puzzled her.

Shaking that thought off, Twist pressed on: "She told me that Wisp had two kits with her. One was Lucky. Do you think the Rogue could have been the other one?"

Flint blinked. "I…I don't know. I've never really thought about that." Then his brow furrowed over his eyes. "Maybe. I mean, they do look rather similar. And they have the same manner of speaking, I think." He pitched his voice low and said, "'Yes, Flint. You are such an important member of the Sliders. I, Lucky, am filled with eternal joy that you simply cannot comprehend due to my monotonous voice.'"

For the first time in what felt like forever, Twist laughed once. "Uncanny."

"Right?" His tail flipped behind him once. "But still. Lucky and the master…brothers? That would explain a lot. They do both have the same style of thinking. But…"

"But?"

"But why would he want to kill his brother?" Flint shook his head. "I mean, Max gets on my nerves—_got_ on my nerves—a lot, but I never wanted to slit his throat. Maybe kick him off a pipe once or twice, but never actually kill him."

"Something must have happened to them." Now that the idea was in place in her head, it was impossible to shake. "What does the Rogue look like?" Vivian had told her before, but maybe she hadn't seen the real Rogue. Maybe he was hiding behind another cat to preserve his identity. Twist couldn't leave anything un-imagined when dealing with these savage cats.

"He's tall. A pale brown tabby. Marked. He's got a lot of scratches on one shoulder." Flint shrugged. "I see him all the time when kits are born. And generally, that's here. The needles and the pits are no place for a kit."

"What about the cliffs?" Twist asked.

Flint shook his head. "The only kits I've seen there are the Rogue's own."

"He's got kits?" She was surprised. It seemed impossible that such a cat could have a family.

Flint nodded now. "You know some of them, I bet. Bronze's one. Sorrow's another."

_"Sorrow _is his daughter?" Twist felt her mouth drop open.

"Why else would she be in charge of a camp?" he asked dryly. "He only puts his own in charge. That's why Bronze leads the battle parties. That's why Sorrow is the only she-cat as camp leader. Though it doesn't explain Sparrow's behavior, but he's always been a weird one. Or so Amber's told me."

"So Sparrow and Bronze _are _littermates." _I knew it. They look identical!_

But Flint shook his head. "No, the master only lays claim to the kits of his that are marked. Sparrow and Bronze are from two different litters. Sorrow's the oldest of them all. His firstborn. They say when she was born, her eyes were already open. And they say that she killed a mouse right after she learned to walk."

"They also say she was a gift from the clouds and that her voice is the most beautiful sound in the world." The sardonic voice was not Flint's.

Flint whirled around, letting out a sharp cry of surprise. "Ah, ah. Sorrow! What are—what are you doing here? Here in the medicine corner? It's kind of, uh, weird, isn't it? I mean, why would you be here when you could be leading the camp? You're really good at that, you know, leading the camp and—"

"Just shut up, Flint." Sorrow's voice, though a snap, had no malice in it. Her eyes fixed on Twist. "I called for you. What, were you going to wait until all the time in the world was gone before you responded? Not the best way to treat the cat that holds you life in her paws."

Twist, grimacing, bent her head. "I'm…sorry."

"It's fine. I can talk to you just as well here." Her eyes slid over to Flint, growing colder as they went, until they hit Flint full force. "Why don't you go find something else to do?"

"Uh, well, she's my patient. I should stay and look out for her, right? I mean, that's the best thing for me to do." Flint was rambling again, his eyes darting around without fixing on anything.

Sorrow didn't budge a whisker-width. "Goodbye, Flint," she said, with enough frost in her tone that Twist was half surprised Flint didn't freeze from his nose to his tail.

Flint, bowing clumsily once more, darted from the clearing as quick as he could.

Sorrow watched him go. Then, to Twist's shock, she let out a minute sigh, her ears folding to the side with weariness. "That one is more trouble than he's worth." She turned to look at Twist. "Don't you agree?"

"Uh…" Twist didn't know what to say to that.

Sorrow watched her for a moment, those strange pale eyes on her, then shook her head just slightly. "Not the brightest cats in the world, are you? Sliders?" She sank to her haunches, her silvery pelt falling around her with a beautiful ripple. "Let's get down to business. As you know now—thanks to that bumbling idiot—I am the master's daughter. His first kit." She let out a single almost humorless chuckle. "The only one that counted, anyway. My brothers and sisters were not like me. They didn't have the capacity that I did. And, they did not have the traits that I do." She turned her head slightly, allowing the just-rising sun to highlight her eyes.

"They weren't marked?"

"No. I was the first. It is a rare trait, to be marked. Not every kit born to a marked parent is. The chances are higher when both parents have eyes like mine. Or so they say. So my father says. And who am I to question his logic? He is the most brilliant cat in this forest. Your Lucky aside."

"He's not my anything," Twist said before Sorrow could go on.

Sorrow blinked. "Are you not a Slider?" Then her eyes shone with understanding. "You're from the mountains. I always forget that part."

Twist allowed herself to stretch slowly, trying not to show any pain in her eyes. To show weakness at this point would not only be pathetic—it could be deadly. "How," she asked slowly, "does everyone know that?"

"The mountains are an unknown element in our society, Twist. We need to learn as much about them as we can." It sounded like she had said the words often.

"But why am I being targeted? I haven't done anything to call attention to myself."

Sorrow laughed rather scornfully. "Please. The instant you walked in this camp, you had every eye on you. They sense that they are not like you. You have a different…presence. You walk with a guardedness that they want." Her eyes flickered again, some thought dancing just behind that marked gaze. "They want to know your secrets. The guards, the workers, everyone. Especially my father."

"The Rogue wants…information from me?"

Sorrow put her head to the side. "Perhaps that is the best way to put it. It's more like he wants to know…certain subjects. As soon as _Snit_ told me about you, I wanted you in my camp." Her voice curled with derision at Snit's name. "I took the steps necessary to place you here so I could ask you those questions before my father could."

Twist felt surprise radiate through her, though prayed it didn't show on her face. "I don't understand."

Sorrow sighed heavily now. "No, I guess you wouldn't. You're used to—what's the word…—_loyalty_. Loyalty to Lucky. Don't give me that look, Twist. Even though you claim to not like him or mean anything to him, I don't see you telling me exactly where and how to find him. Tell me how to get Lucky to come out of the Warren, Twist, and I'll give you anything you want."

Surprised at the sudden change in topic, Twist could only stare at her. "You're serious."

"If I can get Lucky, I can get what I want." She stood suddenly, with a fluidity that made Twist instantly and strangely jealous. Staring down at her, Sorrow added, "I want to change things around here, Twist. Our constant battling with the Sliders is wearing down our forces. The Claws cannot continue to do this. We cannot continue to waste every resource for the chance of my father getting revenge." Her head bent low, shadowing the light that had come across her face earlier, casting her eyes so dark they almost looked the same color. "If Lucky is out of the picture, we can redirect our guards to protecting us. The kits and the queens that aren't getting enough food to eat. The guards could come and work as warriors, helping us, hunting for us. And we can live peacefully."

"So, you want Lucky dead?"

Sorrow mouth quirked a little bit. "Isn't that the easiest way to end this? I was taught that the best solution to a problem is usually the easiest one. Besides, my father won't rest until he's dead but he doesn't ever get our troops far enough into their Warren. Snit tells him that it's too dangerous—that the Warren is a stronghold—but I don't believe him. I think he's trying to win my father's favor from me. He's not even his son. He's lucky to be as high up as he is and that's only because he's a _snitch_. A fitting name for a little rat like him."

"And what do you need me for?" Twist was guarded. Sorrow was seeming to be trying to make a point, and even if she didn't understand it, Twist was going to get as much out of a potential deal as she could. "I'm nothing to either side."

"That's not true. You're from the mountains."

"What does that have to do with anything?" she demanded. "I'm tired of not understanding! I don't get why being from there is more important than being from anywhere else!"

Sorrow's eyes glowed dangerous. "Careful, Twist. I may be speaking frankly to you now, but that doesn't mean that I'm not still your superior. You should be grateful for this chance."

"Chance to what?" Twist asked, in her most coldly polite voice.

"Mm." Sorrow turned away towards the healers' den, setting her paws down delicately before looking over her shoulder again, tail curled over her back. "I would like your help, Twist. All I need is information. I don't care what it takes. I'll give you whatever you want. All for some information."

Twist settled uneasily onto her haunches, twitching a bit of grass off her ear. "Information?"

And now Sorrow slid back over, her eyes shining with an excitement she seemed to have been reining in. "How do you get Lucky to come out of the Warren? What is there that he wants so badly? And why do the Sliders have such growing numbers? What is his secret? Tell me, Twist, and you can have whatever you ask for. I need to get Lucky out of the Warren. What are its weak points?"

Twist blinked. "Snit has been in and out of the Warren more—"

"He claims it is impenetrable," Sorrow cut her off with a snarl. "I don't believe him for a second. There's something he wants there—something he's keeping to himself. I want whatever it is. He must be hiding something inside those walls. I have to have it, Twist. I want Snit to be gone. He's bad luck for our group—never mind the fact that he's a complete and bumbling idiot. He's been with the Sliders for moon cycle after moon cycle and he's never given us any kind of information we need."

"Snit told me that…" But then Twist stopped. Snit had never told her anything about his spying on the Sliders—nothing.

Nothing…except he had snapped when she had questioned him about Audrey.

_Could it be that she's the thing he's keeping secret?_ Twist wondered. _Is he trying to protect her? _Even when she had been living with the Sliders, Twist had noticed Snit never strayed far from Audrey and his marked eyes had fixed on anyone he didn't trust. Was he being protective of her? Was he protecting her even now? Even from his so-called master?

Twist just shook her head to Sorrow. "I don't know much about them. I wasn't with them long."

"Then tell me of the mountains," Sorrow urged. "My father never stops speaking of them. He claims that cats from the mountains are more intelligent than any others he's seen. That's why he wanted you. You failed the moss test—when we slipped you sleeping herbs. No other cat has ever failed that test. Cats in these woods learn from the beginning what plants to eat or not. Even the pets. But not you."

"I'm from the mountains but we're no different there. No one in my gang was ever as smart as Lucky. Or, as you claim, your master."

"Hmm." Sorrow didn't sound entirely convinced. She turned away again. "You've given me a lot to think about, Twist. But I still need more information. I have to kill Lucky before my brothers get the chance. I have to keep my father's favor. So I can take his place, one day." Before she reached the end of the entrance tunnel, she turned and called back, "Oh, I almost forgot. My father will be here today. I'll keep you away from him for now but I'll be back later. If you don't have anything else for me then, I swear I'll hand you right over to him. And I never break my word, Twist."

The grass shivered back into place as she left.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

For the rest of the day, Flint kept Twist in the back behind a thick curtain of bracken. "Sorry," he whispered, bringing her a mouse to eat. "Sorrow's orders. Don't make any sound, okay? The master wants to tour Sorrow's camp."

"Including here?" Twist's eyes widened.

"Yeah. Just…don't sneeze. Or cough. Or breathe loudly. Or anything like that. You know? Just…think quiet thoughts. Grass fields, clouds, night. You know. That kind of thing."

"It's a good thing I'm the one here and not you, Flint," Twist said dryly, backing into her hiding place and curling up. "I don't think you're capable of even thinking quiet things."

Flint laughed once with good humor. "That's a good one. Keep quiet, okay?" Then he disappeared.

Twist settled down into the cocoon of darkness, wondering if the Rogue would stay long in Sorrow's camp. Vivian said earlier that he came around for the birth of kits, but Ruby still wasn't ready to have her litter yet. What could have drawn him away from the cliffs enough to bring him here?

She sighed, finishing off the last bite of mouse and turning to clean her pelt. Sorrow's words nagged at the back of her mind like an itch. She still didn't completely understand the turbulent situation between the Sliders and the Claws, not to mention Sorrow's dedication to the cause. Flint had told Twist that Sorrow was different from the other Claws and maybe that was right—though it didn't stop the silvery she-cat from being just as ruthless and conniving as the rest of them.

_Conniving, _Twist mused, tossing the remains of her meal into the bushes behind her. _I used to be that. Wonder when I changed so much. _Her eyelids dropped to slits. _Maybe if I still had some of that frustration, I could employ it here. I bet the old me could have been long gone from this place by now. There are too many things hanging me up here—relationships I shouldn't be making. Braiser taught me a lot of horrible things but he did teach me how to look after myself—only myself. _She sighed, letting her eyes close for a moment. _But now things are different and I don't understand why. I should be looking after only myself, I know that. But I just…I can't anymore. _

It was true: she couldn't think in the same way she could before. She didn't know exactly why she had changed—though suspected that Declan had something to do with it—but she liked the change. It felt like she had finally put some distance between her kithood and her life now.

She allowed herself a small, nearly silent laugh. _Perhaps I'm an adult now. _

The sound quickly died in her throat as the grass rustled up ahead of her. Her eyes pinpointed the spot, unable to blink, as she watched Sorrow enter.

_Mousedung! I haven't even thought about what I'm going to say to her yet! I need to make a deal with her now and maybe get out of this mess!_

But Sorrow was not alone.

Behind her walked the Rogue.

Even from all the descriptions of him, Twist still felt an odd sort of terrified awe seeing him with her own eyes now. His eyes were more radically marked than the rest of his guards—a piercing blue the color of hardened ice and a deep, dark amber that sent a jolt through Twist's entire body. Two thoughts entered her mind at the exact same time:

The shadows in that dark eye were horrifying—and the color was the exact same shade as Lucky's.

_It's true. The Rogue and Lucky are brothers, _Twist thought numbly.

"We haven't done much work to this den yet," Sorrow was saying. "I want it pushed a bit farther back into the field behind it. We'd be able to aid our cats much more effectively."

"From what I can tell, the cats here are very healthy and happy. Ruby's kits will truly be a blessing to such an overwhelmingly satisfying camp. I am proud of you, Sorrow." Twist flinched at the sound of his voice; Flint had been right when he said the Rogue talked similarly to Lucky.

"That's good to hear, Father," Sorrow said, sounding distinctly respectful. "All I want is to please you."

"And you have. Though, in ways that I have no entirely expected of you. You have surprised me lately, Sorrow. First you demand to speak with Snit despite your…former relationship. Then you take away from me the mountain she-cat with whom I have been dying to speak. And now you have asked for the newest in our guards—the cat Leo—for your own personal bodyguard. Why is that?"

"Father," Sorrow said, her voice placating. "I don't believe this is the…right place to have that conversation."

"No, tell me now," he said, a polite but inexorable force in his deep tone. From the gap between stems of grass, she could see him frowning. "This is as good a place as any. Why did you want to speak to Snit?"

"I wanted to know some more information about the Sliders. Nothing else."

"Even though I have had him tell you everything he knows? Such a demanding child you are, Sorrow."

"I'm not," she argued, her tail lashing. "I just wanted to make sure he didn't overlook anything."

"I see," the Rogue said, though he didn't sound like he saw at all. "And what about the she-cat? Twist, I believe her name is. Why did you demand for her to work your camp when she could just as easily come to the cliffs? I could make her tell everything she knows easily."

"If you do that, you'd break her like you broke the last mountain cat," Sorrow pointed out roughly. "That she-cat lost all value to us because of your methods. She doesn't even know who she is! She just sits around with a vacant expression on her face all day long."

_Another mountain cat? _Twist was shocked. No other cat in her gang had ever come down from the mountains before…

Her blood ran cold instantly, as if she'd been dropped in a frozen stream.

No one before her.

Except for her mother.

The horror ran through her again as she relived Sorrow's words: _She doesn't even know who she is!_

Could that be what happened to her mother? After coming down from the mountain, could the Claws have snatched her up and brought her here? And after that, did what? Attacked her? Brainwashed her like they had Declan?

Twist was still reeling from it, feeling like she was going to be sick, that she missed the Rogue's next words.

They must have been talking about Declan because Sorrow snapped back, "He's different. I told you I wanted to try out your so-called 'smoke treatment.' I don't buy it. He's either not completely done or he's just a moron. He doesn't like to direct the workers. And you should see how he reacts whenever Twist walks around. It's like he gets snake-bitten every time he lays eyes on her."

Twist, despite her terror for her mother's fate, forced herself back to the present. She had to keep her brain in this moment now—she could worry about everything else later.

"Yes," the Rogue almost purred. "I wished to see the effects of smoke treatment on one with a strong heart. You should have heard how he was calling for her. Twist. Tell me, how did she react when she saw him for the first time? Did it break her heart? Did she grow sad and wilted like a dried leaf? Tell me."

Sorrow scoffed. "Cut it out, Father. I don't want to hear your nonsense."

"I do not mean to come off that way. I just wanted to know if by his heart hardening from her, if she still cared for him. It amuses me to see cats going through such emotional antics. Such a waste of energy."

"So you're saying it's better not to feel anything? What, have you undergone your own smoke treatment, Father?"

The Rogue drew himself up indignantly. "Of course not. Do not be ridiculous. I do not believe in love. It simply does not exist. And even if it does, what is the point of it? I expect the loyalty of my cats because they fear me, not because they love me."

"Yes, it works so well for you so far," Sorrow said sarcastically. "Just like it works for Lucky."

At once, the Rogue's lip curled. He swung out a heavy paw and cuffed Sorrow over the head, sending her to the ground. Standing over her and bending his head close, the Rogue snarled in a whisper, "I told you never to mention that name to me. You may be my daughter, but I am your leader. Remember your place, Sorrow."

Twist couldn't see Sorrow's expression, though she saw that the camp leader's tail had fluffed out to twice its usual size. She murmured something that seemed to appease her father, because he backed off.

"I apologize, Sorrow. You know that I do not wish to harm you. Please, remember that you are and always will be my firstborn. But do not mention that cat's name in my presence again or I will make you wish you had never been born in the first place." He turned to go, his steps heavy on the soft ground. Before he left completely, he turned back and said, "I want the she-cat. Twist. I will give you a few days to get her completely healed from whatever you told me happened to her, but I will expect her soon. I will be back for the birth of Ruby's kits. That is about three days. Have her ready then. I will take her to the cliffs and get all the information out of her that I want."

"And then what?" Sorrow had picked herself up off the ground indignantly, shaking the dust out of her pelt.

The Rogue chuckled. "Then there will be no use for her. I will dispose of her. Mountain cats are dangerous. There can be only be one intelligent cat."

"Twist is not the cat you claimed her to be. She's just a normal she-cat."

"They always seem 'just normal,' Sorrow. Just until they reveal themselves." The Rogue's eyes darkened. "And I will not allow any cat to reveal their true intentions lest they contrast with my own. Take care, Sorrow. I will return in three days." Then he was gone.

Sorrow stood there, breathing heavily for a few heartbeats more. Then she turned, her entire head bent low below her shoulders, eyes murderously furious. They found Twist's through the mesh of grass and fixed there, burning. "Did you hear all of that?"

"Yes." There was no point to lie.

Sorrow's ears flattened. She stalked over to the grass curtain and stood outside it, eyes flickering over her shoulder. "And what's your answer, then? Do you have a deal for me? Everything is on the line for you now, Twist. I told you I would give you anything you wanted. So what is it that you want?"

It was such a loaded question. The loyalty she felt towards Lucky…was it strong enough to trump the loyalty that she felt to herself? To her friends? "I…I need several things," she started slowly.

"Anything," Sorrow promised.

"I want two other workers to come with me," Twist said, thinking quickly.

"Which ones?"

"Kip and Vivian."

Sorrow laughed scornfully. "The dying old queen and the puny little pet? Fine, what else?"

"I need all of us to be allowed out of Claw territory unharmed. I don't want the Claws coming after us." She paused a moment and then added, "And out of Slider territory, too."

Sorrow's eyes widened. "You won't return to them?"

Twist shook her head. "No. That's not my home." _Which reminds me…_ "I have another request."

Sorrow was beginning to look a little annoyed. "Okay?"

"Declan comes, too."

"Declan?" She looked confused.

Cursing herself for even speaking the name, Twist amended, "Leo."

"Ah." Sorrow's eyes gleamed with understanding. "Yes, you can't leave without him, can you?"

Twist felt her ears grow hot. "And one last thing."

"You're trying my patience, mountain cat. One last thing and then you tell me everything I want to know."

"Fine," Twist said, just as snappishly. "Last thing."

"What is it?"

"When you were talking to the—your father, you mentioned that you had caught another mountain cat."

"Yes?"

Twist took a deep breath. "What was her name?"

Sorrow put her head to the side. "Why do you want to know?"

"You said I could ask for anything. I'm asking for this." _Please. Please let it not be her. Not my mother_. Twist sent up a quick prayer to whoever might be listening. _Just this once, let it not be her._

"Hmm." Sorrow furrowed her brow, thinking hard. "It was a very strange name, I remember. Very unusual. I assumed that all mountain cat names were like that. Aahhh…" She was silent for several terse heartbeats before she stomped her paw a little, ears flicking. "I remember. It was Ice That Melts On Rocks. She asked us to called her Ice. She didn't last very long."

Twist let out a long, relieved breath. _One less thing to worry about. _"Thank you."

"Now," Sorrow said, bending close again. "Tell me: how do I get Lucky out of the Warren?"

And Twist began to speak.

* * *

**This chapter wasn't really as long but it had a lot of dialogue in it so...that's something. I guess. XD **

**Anyway. Me and my brother are gonna go play L.A. Noire - he hasn't played it even though I finished so now he keeps asking me all those annoying "What happens next?" type questions. I always hate that, because the person asking is always gonna be either disappointed in the ending and not want to play or mad at you should you choose not to tell the answers. My mom's really bad at that. We were watching Titanic - my absolute favorite movie, btw - and she was like, "He dies, right? Jack? He's gonna die at the end, right? If you don't tell me, I'll just look it up. I'll look it up right now. See? Got my computer out and everything."**

**Annoooooying, very annooooooying.**

**Anyway.**

**You know how I do.**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	22. Chapter 22

**Guys, I am so proud of myself. This is like, what, the fourth update this week? I'm on a roooooooooooooll!**

**LegendaryHero - No worries, man! We still cool! I always do appreciate your lovely long reviews. Gives me a lot to think about! XD Challenge accepted. I got my game face on. You can't see it, but it's totally on. Yeah, set-up. But this is the chapter where all that set-up comes back into play! So wooot! XD **

**Queen of the Pens - Sorrow's like...an adult. Not really really old, but an adult. I'm not very good with the giving of ages, am I? I always worry it's gonna be like, "My name is Twist and I'm eleven moons old, teehee~!" or something lame, so I generally leave them ambiguous. XD**

**Smokefrost - Haha, sadly no. I was trying to show my insane logic but I guess it failed. I do have a guinea pig, a beta, and three dogs, though! I volunteer at my local zoo, right, and I used to be an animal handler and got to hold a little baby boa and a blue-tongued skink. I much prefered the skink to the snake. She kept trying to crawl up the inside of my sleeve and that just gave me the heebie-jeebies. **

**Crowstorm - Of course! Everything always turns out sunshine-daisies-lollipops in my storys! Oh wait. XD I did mention that my favorite movie was Titanic, right? I do love me some bittersweet endings, I do I do. **

**Tangleflame - Heehee! No, no one's ever happy, really, in my fics. I wonder if that says something about me. -thinks hard- Probably not. XD**

**Enough talky-talky! (totally running out of synonyms)**

**Onto the story~**

* * *

Leo did not like Twist.

Even as he walked beside her now in the midst of a cluster of Claw guards, she made him…uncomfortable. There was something familiar about her, some indistinct aspect of her looks or personality that reminded him of something he was sure he once knew. Though what that was, he didn't know. He just knew that the impulse to stay away from her was almost as strong as the urge to hover around her. It was confusing. And Leo didn't like to be confused.

Now they were on their way to the Warren—the Sliders' stronghold.

Leo hadn't been told a lot of the details but he knew it was top-secret. Sorrow, the leader of the expedition, had told no one of the mission except for a group of her trusted guards, himself, Twist, and two workers that looked so feeble Leo wondered why she'd brought them along in the first place. One was a tiny she-cat who looked petrified, and the other was a gray-muzzled black she-cat who looked tired in a way that went beyond sleep.

Sorrow was in the front, her head low beneath her shoulders. Sparrow was at her side, the Shredder—an annoying gold tabby tom that Leo stayed away from—on the other. He was already full of energy, his fluffy fur spiked around his neck and shoulders like a fledgling bird. Peppering the air with his not-so-quiet questions, he was raising the hackles of a lot of the guards behind him.

They were on their way to the Warren, finally. Leo had heard the story dozens upon dozens of times. The master, the one who commanded the great Claws, had an unsettled score with the terrible leader, Lucky. Lucky had done something horrible to him many seasons ago, something the master refused to speak of, but Leo had heard the stories. The rumor went that the two had something they shared, only to have it ripped away by Lucky. The master never forgave his former-friend, and had sworn his life to getting even.

Such a stupid thing, Leo thought as he trudged along, to be consumed so wholly by thoughts of revenge.

Something stirred at the back of his memory again, that uncertain shadowy area he had only just begun to notice, but he shook it away again, feeling unsettled.

He looked over at Twist, who was walking just behind Sorrow. She had her head bent close to the white she-cat, the one he had just overheard being called Vivian. They both turned and looked in the same direction at the same time: back at him.

Leo focused his eyes in a different direction, trying to pretend he hadn't noticed. His belly squirmed with discomfort.

The ground below turned unfamiliar with alarming rapidness, going from the soft sandy grass he was familiar with to an almost gravelly terrain.

The guard next to him let out a low curse. "This stupid ground," he snarled, as if reading Leo's thoughts. "My pads feel like they've been slashed to ribbons. You?"

Leo, holding a paw up for inspection while hobbling along on the other three, was rather confused at the toughness of his own pads. "Mine don't hurt. Not even a bit."

The guard widened his mud-ringed eyes. "Aren't you from the forest? You're a guard, aren't you?"

Leo nodded. "I don't know… I guess I just got lucky with my paws."

The guard, eyeing him with complete suspicion, said nothing else.

They ran for a long while, bounding up over large sandy hills and cutting through thick, dense undergrowth. Leo's thick pelt, even slicked flat with mud, caught amongst the branches, which were hanging heavily with thorns even so close to the beginning of the cold-season. He yanked, leaving behind clumps of his red-brown fur, and kept running.

Sorrow stopped them up on the crest of a hill. She raised her feathery tail, calling for everyone's attention. She turned and walked back among them, her pale eyes lingering on the sky for a moment before she spoke. "We will wait awhile until sunset. Then, our Twist here will go into the Warren and lure Lucky out into the open. Once I give the signal, you will attack. Do not kill him. I want that pleasure for myself." She glanced back over toward the hill again, her eyes seeming to ice over. "His pelt will make a fine addition to my father's den."

Sorrow shook her head then, dismissing them to hunt and rest until it was time to begin.

Leo's eyes drifted past Sorrow to where Twist was standing. She was on the top of the hill, looking out past the bracken to the ground below, her eyes wide and fearful.

_Of course, _he thought. He padded up to her and without looking at her said, "You're doing the right thing."

She jumped as if he had nipped her. Turning to glare up at him, she hissed, "You shouldn't be here!"

Leo was confused. "Where else would I be?"

Twist was still staring at him. "You should go hunt with the rest of your…group. I'm not allowed to leave Sorrow's sight."

"I can change that." For whatever reason, Leo's stomach was flip-flopping uncomfortably in his gut. "I'll get Sorrow to let you out with me. You look like you could use some good hunting. You're a little skinny."

Twist didn't look affronted like he thought she would. Rather, she looked a little shocked. "Workers don't get much to eat these days."

"Not for Sorrow's lack of trying," he felt obligated to say. "She's trying to change things around here. The Claws will be a lot better when she gets in charge of things." He stopped himself immediately, horrified at what he had just implied.

Twist's ears perked at that. "In charge? What do you mean?" Then something flashed in her yellow eyes and she continued, "Is she planning a takeover?"

Leo stammered for a moment before getting out, "No. No, of course not. I…I didn't mean—"

"I see." Twist turned her eyes to the ground again, looking down at the base of the hill. Leo followed her eyes, his ears feeling suddenly hot.

Why was it that he sounded like a complete moron around this she-cat?

Then he noticed what she was looking at. It was a squared-in patch of packed grayish sand, larger than two of Sorrow's camps put together. One side was completely dirt, marked in certain places by piles of rubbish, while the other was a dark matted mess of shiny metal tubes and square nest-things.

"The Warren," he said.

Twist nodded. "It's going to be difficult getting Lucky to come out of it," she said slowly. He saw her eyes flick up to his face and away again. "Do you think it's the right thing to do?"

Leo was confused again. "If Sorrow says it is, it must be. Sorrow's always right."

"Hmm." Twist didn't sound particularly convinced. "Well, you just go on believing that, then." She turned to walk away, her tail just barely brushing his flank, and he flinched.

"Wait." He froze in place. He hadn't meant to speak but the word had come unbidden from his throat.

Twist paused. "What?" she asked, sounding distinctly weary, even though the trip over here had not been very taxing.

Leo's words were stopped up in his throat. "I…I don't understand you…Twist. You're a worker. You should be loyal to Sorrow. Why…why aren't you?"

Twist's eyes, dark in the light of the fading sun, were solemn. "All my life, I've only ever been completely loyal to one cat. He's the only one I've ever really trusted."

"Who?" he asked, surprising himself with his own curiosity.

Twist's eyes flickered between his, as if searching for the answer there. "You wouldn't know him." She turned and walked away back to where the Claws had already gathered a few mice and one large rabbit. Stepping in line behind the old worker she-cat, Twist bent her head and whispered something in her ear. The other she-cat looked remorsefully at her, licking her once over the ear in compassion.

Leo watched this with a curious sense of familiarity. He couldn't remember a single time where someone comforted him like that. Not even once.

Though, he thought, since he'd joined the guards, everything was infinitely more confusing.

"Leo." Sorrow's call was hushed. She kinked her tail to beckon him over. "I need you here close by in case I need something."

"I wanted to take the workers out hunting," he said politely, dipping his head. "They look famished."

Her eyes drifted over to them appraisingly. "They do look a little thin," she said slowly. "I'll allow it. One per guard, though. Break them up. I don't trust all that whispering they're doing."

He bowed his head again respectfully. "I'll see to it."

She nodded, turning away to talk to Sparrow again. Leo overhead her say, "We need to make sure we can pin him. Do you think the pincer method would work?" before he got completely out of hearing range.

Twist, who had collapsed onto her belly, looked up as he walked over. Something passed across her face too quickly for him to recognize it before she hid it.

"I'm taking you hunting," he told her. The other two workers got to their paws slowly, but he shook his head. "You two are paired up with two more guards. We can only take one at a time."

"Why don't you take Kip first, then?" Twist suggested. "She needs some exercise to keep her legs from hurting."

"I'm fine," the black she-cat, Kip, protested. At the end of her words, she let out a hacking cough that grabbed the attention of every guard in the vicinity. Sorrow's eyes pierced Kip swiftly, and she bent her head to the guard next to her, the Shredder.

He came padding over to Kip's side, nosed her to her feet, and said, "Sorrow said to take you hunting. Your coughing is going to get us all killed!"

"I can't…can't help it." Kip was fighting for breath. "My throat is so very dry…"

The Shredder put his ears back behind his head crossly. "Then we shall find you some water." He looked up at Leo, irritation in his eyes. "These workers," he huffed. "Always demanding. What happened to the skittish ones? Those were always so much easier." Without waiting for an answer, he dragged Kip off, growling under his breath.

Vivian, who had been watching with wide eyes, said, "I can go with you. Er, Leo."

Surprised that he knew his name, Leo shook his head. "Sorry. She's with me." He nodded to Twist, who was refusing to look at him.

"Why?" Vivian challenged, now with a little steely glint in her blue eyes.

Leo was stunned. "Don't speak to a guard so familiarly, worker," he growled. He stomped a paw. "Get up, Twist. Don't make me repeat myself."

Vivian pressed against Twist protectively, but Twist shrugged her off. She bent and said something in the white she-cat's ear, who blinked quickly. Then she turned away, her tail twitching over her paws, and said nothing else.

Twist looked at Leo with shrewd, suspicious eyes. "Are we going, then?"

Leo nodded. "Come on."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You're a pretty lousy hunter." Leo, after watching Twist lose the third mouse in a row, sighed impatiently.

"It would be nice if you helped," she said crossly, shaking bits of clinging mud off her paws. Licking her flank clean of sand, she eyed him with a piercing, searching glance. "Have you hunted before?"

"Yes," he said indignantly. "I've been trained to hunt."

"By your family?" she demanded.

Leo, lip curling defensively, snapped, "That's none of your business. Get to work. That's what you are, isn't it? A worker?"

"I was just curious," she said loftily, sniffing at the tree trunk under which the mouse had disappeared. "I mean, maybe your mother didn't teach you. Maybe it was your father, a sister…" She lifted a branch with her paw, peering under it. "Maybe another cat you knew or lived with." She glanced up at him with that sweeping look again.

He didn't know what she was playing at but it was making his head hurt. "I'm sure it was," he said, condescendingly slow. The hurt that flashed quickly across her face made his heart twinge, though for what reason he didn't know. "Sorry."

She turned her eyes back to the ground, tracking something. "It's fine. I mean, I'm used to this kind of treatment by guards. The ones before you were even worse to me. The one you saved me from was going to beat me into a bloody pulp but you stopped him."

"I didn't save you from anything," he protested. "I saw a problem that needed to be corrected. Sorrow wouldn't have liked stories of a guard who went too far in punishing a worker."

"So it wasn't because you wanted to help me or anything, right?"

"Right," he agreed.

"And it wasn't because you realized the situation was wrong, right?"

"…Right."

"And it surely couldn't have been because somewhere deep in that smoky brain of yours, you still remember who you are, right?" Her eyes, flashing ferociously, fixed on his with an intensity that seemed to burn right through the confusion in his brain.

"I don't…I don't understand what you're talking about."

"Think for just one second." She swept over to him, forgetting hunting entirely. She stopped in front of him, her eyes full of some emotion he couldn't place, and watched him. Her eyes searched his, looking for something she clearly wasn't finding. "Don't you remember me? Do you remember me at all?"

"Of…of course," he said, snapping back into guard-mode. "You're a worker."

"A worker," she echoed.

He narrowed his eyes. "Twist, the worker. A worker for Sorrow's camp."

"And the first time you ever saw me?" she pressed.

"What are you getting at?" he demanded. "I don't…I don't have to answer any of your questions!"

"When was the first time you saw me?" she snapped back, showing more emotion that he had ever seen from her. Her back fur was fluffed up along her neck and spine and her teeth were partially bared. It looked like she was going to go for his throat if he didn't answer.

Leo took in a deep breath, looking over the top of her head and fixing on a single leaf hanging from a maple tree. It worked better, he thought, if he focused on a single thing. It seemed to get his brain together. "The first time I ever saw you was a few days ago. You were working the grass fields collecting nesting material and I was watching you."

"That's not true."

"Of course it's true," he snapped, not looking at her still. The ache in his head was coming to a pitch, and he felt his eyes water from the strength of it. "What are you trying to say? I'm lying?"

"You're confused," she whispered. "You must be."

Leo was taken aback. _How could she possibly know that? How could she know what's going on in my head? She's a worker! Some random she-cat!_

_But if that's so, why do I feel this way about her? _

So now Leo lied. "I'm not. I know where things stand. Clearly you don't." He turned around, coldly turning his back on her, and started back up the path. He didn't expect her to follow him now; she had to return soon, whether she wanted to or not.

"W…wait!" she called. She stumbled up to him, throwing herself in front of him and blocking his way. "Don't go!"

"Get out of my way," he said roughly, raising a paw to push her.

"No!" she cried. Her eyes were closed tight, bracing for the strike of his claws. "No, I won't! I won't get out of the way because I know you're still in there somewhere! They can't have gotten rid of every piece of you! I know it—I feel it somewhere in my heart—that you're still there!"

Leo just stared at her. "You're mistaken."

"No, I'm not!" Now her eyes flew open, her yellow eyes cutting and blazing up into his face like shards of melting glass. "I _know _you! And you know me; better than any other cat I've ever met! You promised that you'd be with me! That you'd never leave me! And here we are, finally back together again after me aching for you, and you…you don't even _know _me! Look at me! Look at me _right now_ and tell me you don't know me! _Please_, Declan!"

Leo's throat went dry. "What did you call me?" he asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper. The question hung in the silent, still air for more than a few heartbeats before she answered.

"Declan. It's your name."

He flinched back. The pain in his head flared to full force, nearly sending him to the ground. The smell of smoke filled his nostrils, cloying and thick and choking. His entire brain felt on fire, and the flames licked at his closed eyelids. He let out a groan, every nerve in his body flashing white-hot with agony.

"Declan!" Twist gasped. She ran to his side, supporting as much of his weight as she could with her slender shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"Stop it," he said quickly, eyelids fluttering with the effort of keeping himself awake. "Stop it. That cat, he told me you would be like this."

"Like what?" she asked in a low voice.

He glanced over at her. She was entirely too close, her whiskers brushing his. "He told me you would try to do this to me. He said to keep away from you."

She didn't move away. "You haven't done a very good job of that," she pointed out.

Leo let out a single, weak chuckle. "I don't understand why. I want…I want to be with you all the time. And I don't understand why. I don't…I just don't know."

"Declan." Her voice was barely an exhale of breath.

He closed his eyes.

Behind his eyelids, past the fire that still burned there, he saw something. Large sweeping mountains with snow on the top, an icy river coming at him with alarming speed, a wooden fence, piles of rat bones, a box-nest with someone else's scent in it, a pair of hauntingly dark amber eyes glinting with strange intelligence.

And then other things. He saw drops of cold rainwater dotting a dark tortoiseshell pelt, claws flashing to catch prey, the silhouette of a peacefully-sleeping cat. He saw a pair of yellow eyes looking up at him with that same emotion he couldn't identify, the one that turned his stomach so strangely.

With every flash of memory—_memory?—_he saw more and more. The fire dimmed in his vision, pressed to the back of his mind by the overwhelming sense of protection, of comfort, of dedication, of affection, of—

"Twist," he whispered.

Declan opened his eyes. And he saw.

Twist was standing there, watching him with a guarded sort of hope in her eyes. He could see her uncertainty in the way her ears twisted partially behind her and how her front paw was slightly lifted off the ground. The scent of her, that familiar scent, hit Declan's nostrils like a long drink of cooling water.

"Declan?" she asked, swallowing hard.

Declan, the words caught in his throat, could only stare at her. How had he allowed himself to drift so far away from her? How had he let himself be caught in the Claws war? A war in which he had no place?

"I—" he started.

"Leo!" Sparrow was at the top of the hill, looking down at them. His eyes, full of suspicion, flicked from Declan to Twist and then back again. "Sorrow wants you at the front. We're about to begin the strike. You, worker. Twist. Get back to the pack and stay there. Sorrow has a plan to send you in." He stared at Declan expectedly. "Well? Coming or not?"

Declan, chancing one last look at Twist, dipped his head respectfully. "Of course. I'll head right there."

"Good." Sparrow turned to Twist. "You're with me. Okay?"

"O-okay," Twist said, glancing at Declan once more. _Declan? _she mouthed.

Turning his head so that Sparrow couldn't see, Declan said back, _I'm here._

He had never seen Twist look so happy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Here's the plan," Sorrow said. She had gathered her entire forces in one section of forest, keeping their backs up against the thorn bushes. "I'm sending Twist in first. She will lure Lucky out, as I've said before. I've spoken with Sparrow and we have planned the whole thing out. You, Umbra, will take half of our forces to this point on the other side of the Warren." She drew a line in the dirt, roughly marking the surroundings. "Kaltag, you're this half. When Lucky is out we'll need to immediately close off his way back into the Warren. That's where you come in, Shredder."

_"The _Shredder," the tom corrected her.

Sorrow growled. "You're lucky I use that name you've picked for yourself in the first place, _Daffodil._ Just remember what you're supposed to be doing."

"And if we catch Lucky before you do?" a cat in the back asked.

Sorrow's freezing eyes found him in the crowd. "Hold him down and don't let him go. If anyone takes that cat's life that isn't me, I'll have your pelts alongside his as a gift for my father. I'll be the one to kill Lucky." Her eyes flew to Twist. "Are you ready? Remember our deal."

"Deal?" Sparrow echoed. "You made a deal with a worker?"

"It's not your place to question me, Sparrow. You've already lost any of the master's affections for what you did."

Sparrow flattened his ears against his skull. "Never you mind what I did. I did what was right—"

"You," she said without looking at him, "are a coward with no bravery at all. I'm surprised you can stand without a spine."

Sparrow bared his teeth and fell shamefully silent.

Sorrow broke the group, whisking Twist away before Declan could even say anything to her. He didn't even know what to do: since awakening from his stupor—now he could remember it well, the scent of that smoke—he hadn't know how to react to this situation. Should be have wished her good luck? Should he have told her not to do it? She was risking her life for what? What was she doing this for? And why would she turn on Lucky so readily to achieve it?

He couldn't take his eyes off her as Sorrow as the gray tabby led her to the top of the hill. Twist had grown thin as a rail but her pelt was still darkly beautiful. She stood out next to Sorrow's pale fur like a crow next to a pigeon. Twist nodded to what Sorrow was saying before turning and starting off down the hill. She turned once, and caught Declan's eye.

_Be safe, _was all he could think of. He hoped that it showed in his expression.

Twist seemed to understand. Her eyes blinked slowly at him once before she turned and continued on her way. She looked so small out in the middle of the open space; it looked like anything could take her out as easily as swatting a fly.

"That's what you get," the Shredder was saying in the background. "That's what you get, Sparrow. You can't act like you're better than all of us if you do stupid stuff like that."

"All I ever did," Sparrow said stiffly, "was help out a cat that needed help. That's all. That's what my mother taught me to do, no matter what."

"Yes," the Shredder said, his voice drawn out and painfully sarcastic. "And look how well that ended up for her! The once-mate of the master, now reduced to a cat who doesn't even know who she is."

Sparrow snarled viciously, and that's what made Declan turn around in time to see the large tabby guard pounce on the Shredder, slicing into his pelt with long hooked claws.

The rest of the guards sprang away, forming a circle around them as they wrestled. Sparrow bit hard into the Shredder's back, making the younger cat scream in agony.

"_What is going on here?"_ Suddenly Sorrow was there. She dug her claws mercilessly deep into Sparrow's pelt and hauled him off the whimpering and bleeding Shredder, who crawled away to lick his rightfully-given wounds. "Sparrow, explain yourself!"

Sparrow looked barely even ruffled. Giving his shoulder a quick lick, he said, "That stupid cat said something about my mother. No one speaks about her that way."

"Your mother?" Sorrow let out a harsh laugh. "You'd risk our entire mission over _your mother?_ Have you not gotten enough mocking out of situation to toughen your skin?" When he didn't answer her, she swept on viciously, "You are a disgrace to the Claws. A disgrace! I should have your pelt shredded for this! And _you!_" She wheeled on the Shredder. "What's wrong with you? Resorting to kittish taunts to earn your way up the ranks? I'll see you sent back to the pits before I ever let you do anything like this again! Consider yourself a den-cleaner until you've grown up a little bit, you useless, freeloading, arrogant—"

There was a warning yowl in the distance.

Sorrow's pupils shrank to pinpoints. Whipping her head over her shoulder to see, she whispered victoriously, "She's made it inside!"

Declan, who had turned just in time to watch, saw Iggy—the bony guard—greet Twist with a raised tail. He ushered her quickly through the entrance to the Warren, checking around for anything suspicious before poking his head back inside.

Declan, on his belly with his claws sunk deep into the ground, could not fight the terror that was racing through his blood, pulsing faster with each beat of his heart. _She's between enemies now, _he thought dazedly. _Once Lucky figures out what's going on, he's sure to have her killed on the spot. If she even makes it that far in. And if she fails…then Sorrow gets her. _He chanced a look at the leader; she was laying as he was, her eyes fixed unmoving on the gate to the Warren. Her tail was lashing behind her in slow, concentrated sweeps, and her eyes were glittering.

Declan swallowed hard, looking back down at the Warren. From this perspective, he could not see inside. No doubt Twist would already be below ground, on her way to meet Lucky. He prayed with all the force in his body that she would be okay. He didn't think he could go on living if Twist wasn't okay. He closed his eyes tightly as the seconds ticked by, each feeling longer than the last, wondering, wishing, hoping that everything would somehow turn out fine.

How could he have gotten this far without knowing what Twist meant to him?

How could he have thought, even for an instant, that he wasn't in love with her?

* * *

**Yayayayayayayay!**

**I loved writing this chapter. Really did. **

**And now it's over.**

**OR IS IT?**

**No, it really is. That's why my ANs are down here. : D**

**Rambling now, right? Sorry. It's kind of two-thirty AM. I tend to get a little...rambly. I had two Pepsis, too. That probably had something to do with it. I feel like I could build a briiiiiiiiiiiiidge! Or something. Actually, I take that back. I feel like I could...something. Something cool. I don't have any cool hobbies but let's pretend that I did and I was a master at leaping through flaming hula hoops while juggling rabid snapping turtles. I feel like I could do that. Yes.**

**Anyway.**

**Same old, same old.**

**You know what to do.**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	23. Chapter 23

**And another chapter. I AM SO BEAST.**

**Queen of the Pens - Heehee~! I'm glad you liked it so much~!**

**Amazingly Awesome Person - Haha! You can keep singing your song for awhile yet, AAP-chan! For a little longer, anyway. -evil smile-**

**Sky Fireheart - YES! WOOT!**

**LegendaryHero - Dude, I didn't even notice I had hit 100K! Though I probably need a little more, as a good portion of that is probably these review replies. XD I can see a few more chapters here - I have the ending already planned - but I'd imagine that's like six more chapters or so. I can't just leave it here when it's just gettin' to the good part! XD**

**Smokefrost - I do love Oreos. I'm totally one of those peel-them-apart-and-eat-the-cream-part-first people, though. Zoo Tycoon! I LOVE that game! I'm a total fan of all Tycoon-y games. Roller Coaster Tycoon for sure. XD And, on a semi-related note, Viva Pinata. I adore that game. The happy little pinata sounds, Smokefrost! THEY ARE SO ADORABLE. SQUEE~! **

**Crowstorm - Heehee! But I loooooooooove Titanic~! Don't you think a bittersweet ending is more satisfying than a happy-go-lucky-bows-and-flowers kind of ending? I do. :D**

**Tangleflame - Yaaaaay~! Well, hopefully you'll feel sorrier for him soon! XD**

**tufted titmouse - Wish granted! XD**

**RandompeepXD - Haha, really? I'd think this plot is so effed up it would be difficult to copy! XDDDD**

**Wow. Well, now I know how to draw out the lurkers. Perhaps I will make a love confession in EVERY chapter from now on! XD**

**Enough drabble!**

**Onto the story~**

* * *

The walk to the front of the Warren was the longest walk of Twist's life.

Her heart was beating so hard she could feel the pulse in her throat. Her vision was going a little dark at the edges, and her breath was the loudest sound in her ears.

_They're going to hate me for this, _she thought. _The Sliders will hate me forever. _

She had to tell herself to not care.

She had to tell herself to keep calm.

At the gate was Iggy, the old tom she had met a few times before. He didn't notice her at first, his eyes drifting up to the sky aimlessly watching clouds. She scuffed her paw a little harder than she needed to in the dirt and his eyes flicked to her. At once, his jaw dropped.

"Twist!" he yowled, his tail curling up over his back. He rushed up to her and sniffed her quickly, now looking a little uncertain. "It is you, isn't it?"

"It's me." She allowed him to sniff along her flank briefly. "I need to speak with Lucky immediately."

"What happened to you? You and Declan, the others, Snit told us—"

"Snit, is he here?" she asked, her voice hard.

Iggy looked surprised. "O-of course! Where else would he be?"

Her eyes narrowed and she looked away to hide her expression from him. "I need to speak to Lucky."

"Of course. You know the way. But…Twist…"

She turned around to look at him over her shoulder as she passed him, "What?"

He purred. "Welcome home."

Her heart panged a bit at that. She nodded to him stiffly, thanking him in a low voice, and walked on.

The cats of the Warren, as if sensing her return, all came out of their nests. Eyes wide and incredulous, they fixed on her until she felt like a mouse under an adder's gaze. She heard her name echoed through the crowd, passed back and forth in whispers. None approached her until she had reached the underside of the metal pipe.

A small form hit her in the chest, one with an ear short and a rough pelt of scars.

"Twist!" Max yowled happily. "You made it back! I can't believe it! The Rogue has never released a cat of ours before! Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

Twist brushed her muzzle across his forehead. Beneath her touch, she could feel the slashed that laced his skin just beneath his short white fur. Another pang of sickening guilt crossed through her belly. _I will soon betray this cat that calls himself my friend. _

"I'll come see you later," she lied to him, stepping back. "I have to go see—"

"Twist!" She saw a blur of white fur before the scent of Kite flooded over her. The she-cat rubbed her head affectionately against Twist's shoulder, purring the whole time. "Twist, oh thank the stars you're safe. Every night I prayed for your safe return! I thought, I thought—" Her voice choked off. Then she pulled back, suddenly angry, and said, "Don't you ever do that to me again! Viktor and I were worried sick! And the kits! Think of how upset you made them. Streak cried for _days _after you left. Days! You think that's alright? For a little kit to be so upset? You're supposed to be his guardian!"

"I…" Twist had nothing to say to that. What could she say?

The faces swimming around her were all familiar now. Kent, the big gray companion of Gravel's, Marco the little messenger cat, Kite's kits fluttering excitedly around her now, stretching out their fast-growing legs. Viktor made his appearance shortly after, his single eye widening in shock as he saw her.

He pushed towards her, gently dislodging Streak from where he hung around Twist's neck. "Twist! How…how is this possible?"

"I need to speak with Lucky immediately," she told him, keeping her voice so low that even bouncing Streak couldn't hear her. "Please tell him I'm here."

Viktor's eye darkened. "Did they hurt you? The Claws?"

Twist looked away quickly. "I need to tell that to Lucky."

"Fine." He turned away to the rest of the Sliders, calling for space to move. They were so excited, crowding around, pushing closer, their eyes full of hope that their lost love ones could return from the Rogue's claws as Twist had.

Lucky was waiting in his den for them, standing in that familiar pool of sun. In the dying light, the streaks of sunset highlighted the shadowy streaks in his fur and his dark eyes, which turned to fix on her as she walked in. He didn't show his surprise for a single twitch of his whiskers. "Hello, Twist," he greeted politely.

"Twist?" Wisp, whom she had not seen, made herself visible. She rushed up at Twist, getting far too close for comfort, her whiskers bending against Twist's face. She inhaled her scent deeply, eyes widening in horror. "It cannot be," she whispered raggedly. Then, stronger, she hissed, "Lucky, get them out of here."

The Sliders who had followed this far did not need to be reprimanded by their leader. They backed out quickly, avoiding the fury of Wisp at all costs.

Only Viktor hesitated at the entrance. Wisp shot him a dark look and he vanished just the same, the white tip of his thick gray tabby tail disappearing up the mouth of the den.

And then it was just the three of them.

"Twist," Lucky said again. "It is nice to see you once more. Tell me, how is it that you managed to escape from the captivity of the Rogue, our mutual enemy?"

"Sorrow and her cats are waiting at the top of the hill to kill you," Twist said quickly.

It was dead silent in the den.

"Sorrow?" Wisp growled questioningly. "Is that not his firstborn daughter?"

"Yes. She and her forces have come here to deliver Lucky's body to her father." Twist turned to look at Lucky, desperate to see him show some kind of emotion for once. She had just told him an assassination party was waiting just outside the gates of his domain, for the stars' sake!

But he was as unruffled as ever. Pausing politely at the end of her words, Lucky said, "Well. That is unfortunate. What is more unfortunate, I think, is that you brought them here to me."

"I didn't tell a single cat of my plans," Twist said. "I have to act of my own judgment."

"And you decided that this was the best option? I am disappointed in you, Twist."

"Disappointed?" Wisp's rough voice came out as a rasp. "She's led a group here to kill you, Lucky! And then she just walks back in here like she owns the place to tell you to come scampering out and accept your fate!" Her yellow eyes fixed on Twist with something close to disgust.

"That's not my intention at all," Twist growled back. "I'm here to tell you ahead of time. Why would I bring them here and then tell you what had happened? Why would I want you dead, Lucky? Think about it! You've done nothing but shelter me when I needed a place to stay. I need your help. They have dozens of Sliders in captivity, like you said earlier. I met a few of them in my time there. They're working cats to the bone there. The Rogue won't stop until you're dead. He wants revenge on you for something."

Wisp's teeth were bared. "You told them of our secrets. You're nothing but a filthy traitor!"

"I didn't tell them anything! I fed Sorrow lies so she would even _think _about following through with this plan." When Lucky was silent, Twist went on desperately, "Don't you see? I've brought them to common ground. You can end your score with Sorrow instead of the Rogue. You can end all of this, Lucky. It doesn't have to go further than today. If you would just think about it—"

"There's no thinking about it!" Wisp hissed. She strode forward before Twist could move out of the way and viciously slashed at her face, catching her just above the eye. The pain was instantaneous and blinding.

Twist stumbled back, spitting out her own blood as it dripped down her cheek, her eyelid stuck closed with blood. Through her other eye, blinking rapidly, she dropped her head low below her shoulders and growled, "You can't stop me, Wisp. I'm trying to fix things! Everything that you and Lucky did wrong!"

"We did nothing wrong, you insolent little kit!" Wisp snarled ferociously. Twist had never seen her so angry before; her fur was fluffed out, making her seem twice her size, and her eyes glowed above her bristling whiskers like flames. "You don't know anything that you're doing! You had _no right _to go poking your nose into places it didn't belong!"

"I have a right to know about _everything!_" Twist exploded, back arching and fur raising. "The second that I was kidnapped by the Claws, I gained the right to know why the Rogue hates Lucky so much! I lived through a _nightmare _for the sake of the Sliders! Me and the rest of the Sliders that have ever been there—stolen by the Rogue—we have the right to know what the secret is. So what is it, Lucky?" Twist demanded, turning to face him. "Or are you too much of a coward to tell me?"

Lucky didn't even flinch as she directed her venom at him. "I appreciate what you have done for the Sliders," he said calmly. "But I cannot simply walk out of this camp and welcome my death. You see, I am not quite ready to die yet. So I will, as I always have, take the peaceful option. By remaining in the Warren, I not only secure my own fate, but the fate of the cats that live beneath my rule. I am a just and right leader. I have done nothing in my lifetime to gain the hatred of a fellow cat but do my best at the job I was born to do. You are mistaken if you thought I would ever act any other way, Twist, and I feel sorry for you."

Twist couldn't believe her ears. Digging her claws into the loose sand, she snarled, "So, you're saying you'll do nothing? Even despite everything I've told you?"

"There is no action that I can take now besides my usual method that will result in a victory for the Sliders."

Twist flattened her ears behind her head. "Then you are a coward."

"No, you're the coward," Wisp snapped. "Coming in here and demanding Lucky turn himself over! Who do you think you are? You think that just because you're a mountain cat, that you're better than the rest of us? Grow up, Twist. Not every cat in the world will have your so-called integrity. And no one here will appreciate a senseless martyr. No one appreciates bravery if it's driven by stupidity. And yours is." She turned to Lucky. "Send her to the prisons."

"No!" Twist fixed her eyes on Lucky. "Don't listen to her! You have to end this, Lucky! I know what happened—I know the Rogue is your brother!"

Now Lucky looked surprised. "Is that so?"

"Kip told me everything. She told me that Wisp and her started the Sliders. The Rogue was with you when Wisp trained you. She trained you to be leaders by leaching out all your pity and reason."

"Don't listen to her!" Wisp advised him in a snarling voice. She stalked behind him, stroking her tail down his flank, her venomous yellow eyes on Twist. "She knows nothing of what she speaks."

"It's true," Twist insisted. She took a step closer to Lucky imploringly, feeling the blood still dripping off her chin. "Lucky, please listen to me. I heard it from the Rogue's own mouth. Sorrow's, too. They said that the Rogue is your brother. So what happened to make you turn out this way?"

Lucky blinked. "I am not any other way besides the way that Wisp made me. She taught me how to be a leader, true, but she did not instill hate in me as…as what happened with my brother." He shook his head. "I cannot believe you found out about that. Not a cat in the Sliders knows about my relation to that cat."

"See?" Wisp whispered poisonously in his ear. "She is one of them now. No cat in the Sliders knows, remember? She's a Claw."

"No," Twist gasped.

Lucky's already dark eyes darkened even more. "A Claw?" he echoed thoughtfully.

"It's not true," Twist said, her words flowing so quickly she was tumbling over words. "It's not, I swear it. I escaped here so I could tell you about their plans. They're here right now to kill you, Lucky. Would a Claw walk right into camp and tell you about the plan to kill you? No! I wouldn't do that! I might not be the best Slider in the world but I'm not a traitor. I fought my way out of that place with words and my own claws—I have scars from battles I should never have seen—all for the sake of my own life and yours. I didn't betray any of you. Not the Sliders. Not Wisp. And not you, Lucky, no matter what she tells you. I don't know what her gain is in this but she's poisoning you, Lucky. She has for a long time."

Lucky shook his head. "Wrong. Wisp could never betray me. She would never do that." And now he sounded a little angry. "Your implications are wrong, Twist. I do not appreciate even the slightest whisper of betrayal. I will not accept it. Not in my camp. Viktor! Viktor!" His shout drew the attention of the heavy gray tabby, who clambered down into the den.

Catching sight of Twist's bleeding wound, he gasped, "What happened?"

Ignoring him, Lucky said, "Take her to the healing den and post a cat to watch her. She is not to be trusted. From now on, Twist will be thought of as an enemy to the Sliders. Take her away."

"No!" Twist yowled. "No, you don't understand! They're here right now waiting for you! If you don't do anything, they'll storm the Warren! They'll kill all of you!"

Lucky turned coldly away and would not look at her a moment longer. Wisp comforted him with a brush of her muzzle, though her eyes lingered on Twist's. Twist could swear she saw the satisfaction in those yellow eyes.

And then Viktor pulled her away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Viktor, no," Twist moaned as he turned to leave her there. It had darkened quickly, sending long shadows into the mouth of the den. She stepped a few paces after him, imploring him, "Please don't do this to me! You have to believe me, Viktor! I wouldn't betray the Sliders!"

Viktor, after hearing the entire story from Lucky, almost didn't turn around. Shaking his head slowly, he said, "I can't believe that. Not when Claw warriors are lined up at our door."

"I wouldn't do that! I wouldn't do anything to put the Sliders in harm's way! You have to believe me, Viktor!"

"You know what, Twist? I did. And that's what hurt the worst." He turned to look at her now and for once there was no good-natured sparkle in his eye. "I trusted you. I brought you into my family. I made you my kits' guardian, for the stars' sake! And then you pull this. How could you do this to us, Twist? To me and Kite? To our kits? To Lucky?" He shook his head again. "I can't believe it. I don't want to believe it."

"Then don't, Viktor. You have to warn them. Warn Lucky, warn everybody. You have to prepare yourselves. If Sorrow doesn't see me again by midnight, she's going to raid the Warren! Her and the Claws won't stop until they've killed Lucky. Him and everyone else who gets in their way!" She stepped in front of him as he tried to walk away again, looking up into his face even though he refused to look her in the eyes. "Viktor, you have to listen to me! Just…please. Please hear me out."

"I'm leaving a pair of guards at the mouth of this den. Don't try to come out. I've…I've ordered them to use force if they have to." He searched her gaze once more, almost as desperate as Twist felt. "I will speak to Lucky. Not for you, but for what you meant to my kits. What you once meant to them. Now you're nothing to them. You're nothing to the Sliders, nothing to Lucky,"—he turned coldly away—"and nothing to me. Nothing but a traitor."

He stalked out, leaving Twist alone in the darkness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Twist had curled herself in the corner, her eyes squeezed shut. The shadows fell all around her, blanketing her almost comfortingly. Any company at all would be welcome right now, though the only thing that stayed with her was her own imagination. She let it sweep out from her, filling in the details of what she knew was going on.

From the heavy footsteps above, she knew Lucky was meeting with his captains. Viktor, Kent, Iggy, probably the old brown tom Lenny, his brother Pop, and Wisp. Just the thought of the she-cat sent a furious spike of nausea through Twist's belly.

After all her work, all the lies she had to weave so expertly, here she was, trapped like the rats that scurried at the far side of the Warren. Locked alone in the dark, awaiting the time for Sorrow to launch an attack that could have been avoided.

She closed her eyes even more tightly, willing it all to be a dream.

And out there were her friends. Kip and Vivian. Declan. All waiting for her to return with the news that they were free from the Claws. Free to go and live their lives far away from this stupid war and the two leaders who refused to reconcile.

Perhaps it had all been a vanity, Twist thought, feeling lower than she had ever felt. It had been stupid to assume that Lucky would come out and allow himself to be killed—but that had never been her intention. In her mind's eye, it had been Lucky coming up with a plan to wipe out the threat, to somehow send the Claws back on their way to their master uninjured. She had been a fool to think it could have all gone down that way.

And here she was now. An unintentional traitor. Waiting the punishment that was sure to come if any of them got out alive.

There was a scurrying sound at the mouth of the den.

Twist leapt to her paws, eyes blinking in the dim light. She could see the silhouette of a cat, hear the soft voice as he spoke to the guards, and then the slow tread of his steps as he walked down lithely, stopping at the bottom of the entrance.

She couldn't believe her eyes.

"Hello, Twist," Snit greeted her in a low voice. His eyes flicked between hers. "I have to say, I'm surprised to see you."

Twist flew at him. Her claws hooked in the fur of his throat and she sank her teeth into his neck.

He yowled, falling back and taking her with him. With a swift twist of his shoulders, he threw her to the ground, standing over her. Panting, his breath pushing against the soft vulnerable skin of her throat, he hissed, "What was that for?"

"You should be in my place!" she snarled back, snapping at his neck. She heaved him back with a shove of her hind paws, raking her claws at his face. "It should be you down here! I should be up in your place! You're a filthy traitor! You've betrayed the Sliders dozens and dozens of times! You don't even feel bad! It's you who should be here. Sorrow was right about you. You're just an arrogant coward, comfortable to just sit back and watch other cats rip each others' throats out!" She leapt at him again, claws extended.

He ducked and she soared over him. Before she could turn around, he knocked her to her side. Stepping on her forepaws and keeping one hind paw on her belly, he snarled, "I wouldn't go around throwing insults if I were you, Twist. I didn't come down here to fight you."

"I'll fight you if I have to," she snarled. "I'm not afraid of you. It's your fault! All of this! You Claws! I hate you! I hate all of you! You and your stupid—"

"Will you shut up for a second?" He bared his teeth in her face, his breath hitting her muzzle. "You don't know what you're talking about. Again."

"Sorrow told me all about you. You're just after the Rogue's affections. You don't care who you have to hurt to get it! You've betrayed everyone! They don't even know that you're the real traitor!"

"_Shut up!"_ Snit picked her up bodily by the scruff and threw her against the back wall.

Twist's back slammed into the rock and she fell to the ground, dazed. It felt like there was no breath at all in her body.

"Now will you _listen _to me?" he demanded, his paws stepping into her view. She noticed with a sort of disjointed interest that only his front paws were black. "You're just as impulsive as ever! You wouldn't have gotten caught in the first place if you hadn't gone tramping off to the Claws of your own accord! They wouldn't have caught you. But they did. And they didn't kill any of the Sliders they caught that day. Not even Beck. And do you know why? Because I told them not to."

Twist, still lying on the ground, her lungs burning, looked up at him with blank eyes.

Noticing this, Snit let out an exasperated gasp. "If it hadn't been for your intervention, I would have ended this all _moon cycles _ago. Now sit down and listen to me. Right now. Come on, come on, we don't have all day. I have barely any time to fix the stupid mistakes you've made."

Twist flipped slowly into a sitting position. Her head aching from the throw, she dropped her head onto her paws and watched him with smoldering eyes, her fury yet contained. For now.

"Good." Snit sat as well, right in front of her. His eyes, marked, proving him as a member of the guards, watched her carefully for a moment before saying, "You're wrong."

"About what?" she asked, insultingly slow.

Snit's mouth quirked. "About me. I'm not like you, Twist."

"Yeah," she agreed meanly. "You're a real traitor."

"Are you going to let me finish? I promise you nothing will progress here until you listen to me."

Twist bared her teeth at him. "Don't speak down to me."

"Then stop acting like a kit. You're just as bad as Sorrow—running around, pretending to know exactly what's going on all the time. It's annoying."

"As…as Sorrow?" Twist was confused. She looked up at him, now focusing truly for the first time.

Snit lowered his head, marked eyes glittering. "Do I have your attention now?"

She nodded mutely.

He let out a single laugh. "I thought so. You see, Twist, unlike my …colorful presentation, I am not the cat you think I am. Actually, no cat knows who I am, truly. And do you know why that is?" He swept on, not waiting for an answer. "It's because I keep my head down and my mouth shut. I don't work for the Claws, not anymore. I did before, and I regret it.

"For moons I've been feeding them false information. I told them that the Warren was impenetrable. I told them that there was no way to find Lucky here if he didn't want to be found. I told them that Lucky had underground tunnels running all under this place." He looked down, almost modestly, if not for the cocky angle of his ears. "I was born in the Claws. Carefully selected for my attributes, my eyes. I was the only one in the litter. Neither of my parents were marked. The Rogue thought that meant I was special. You see, I have told my former master many lies in my lifetime, though none stuck so completely than when I told him marked eyes were a sign of supreme intelligence—one found only in cats originating from the mountains."

Twist's jaw dropped. "_You _told him that?"

Snit shrugged. "I had to tell him something to make myself move up in the ranks more easily. It was simple once the idea was there. The master has always had a fascination—an obsession—with the mountains. It comes from one of the cats he knows. No one knows about that cat but me."

"W-why would he tell you?"

Snit's eyes slanted as he looked at her up through his eyelashes. "I am the Rogue's most trusted companion. He thinks of me as the highly-competent son he never had. Bronze and Sparrow have shamed him in their own ways—Bronze is too confident, too arrogant for his own good, and Sparrow aided with the release of a mountain cat my father caught many moons ago. Sorrow leads strongly but she's caught up in her own affairs. The master needed someone by his side to remind him what a good job he's doing, and that fell to me. I may not be good at a lot of things, mostly things to do with other cats, but I am an exceptional liar, Twist."

"You lied to the Rogue? And lived?"

"The master would not kill me. I am far too vital to him now. A pair of ears and eyes on the inside of his most deeply-hated enemy. It took me moon cycles of rooting around to figure out what had happened to make him hate Lucky so much—and that involved me getting in deep with the Sliders. I asked the master for the chance to go among them. It was difficult to persuade him but he finally allowed it. I was to report back every half-moon on what I heard. And for awhile, I did that.

"I grew up as a Claw, Twist. I was the best of them. The master's favorite. I hated Lucky and the Sliders as much as the next Claw. But when I came here and first saw them, everything changed. My story was easy—I was the son of a young pet, rejected in favor of a new litter. It was a simple way to earn compassion. Win compassion and you win trust. I worked my way into the circle of Sliders, losing myself in their history, their ways, their numbers. I learned, for the first time, of kindness. Of loyalty. Of affection. In the Claws, loyalty is not only owed to the master, but a given. He commanded us with fear. Lucky was a distant leader in that time, testing the waters. He allowed the Sliders much more freedom than I was ever allowed as a young Claw. The first time I was allowed outside the Warren without a guard panting down my neck, I couldn't believe it.

"For the first time, I had friends. Friends I wanted to protect. Friends my master warned me not to get close to. He claimed that Sliders were ignorant and slow, festering in their own lack of strong blood. But the Sliders were nothing like that. It was a new experience, for me. One of family. Of friendship." He looked away for the first time, fur on his shoulders prickling. "Maybe even a little more than that. But the point was that my eyes were opened for the first time. For the first time, I saw my master as what he truly was: a conniving, deeply suspicious, hateful cat bent on revenge. He wanted to kill Lucky more than anything else in the world."

"But you didn't?" she asked in a whisper.

Snit, still looking at the far wall, murmured, "I did once. But I wanted something else then. More than I had ever wanted anything before. I'm selfish, I admit it freely, but my selfishness is healthier, I think. I couldn't allow any harm to come to what I wanted. And for once, I put myself before my master.

"I went looking for clues. The older cats in the Sliders knew the history. One of them, Kip, knew more than any of the others. She was with Wisp when the group was founded. Wisp had two kits with her, training them. Lucky and the Rogue. Lucky was her star—he was smarter, faster, more logically-gifted than his brother. The Rogue fell behind while Lucky shone.

"Naturally, that upset him a bit. So, like all mentally-balanced and sane cats, he decided to try to kill his only brother."

"While he was still here?" Twist's fur spiked along her back. "While they were kits?"

"They were a little older then. Not quite adults. But he did try to kill Lucky. Wisp had to step in before it got too…messy and the Rogue demanded that she choose between them. She was a mother to them, you know. He wanted her to come with him. He promised he'd take good care of her, he'd prove himself to her. Blah blah blah. All that normal aching-hearts, I'm-better-than-you stuff. But you know what? She didn't buy it. The Rogue left here, upset, heartbroken, and began his own little group of cats. My mother was one of his first recruits. I was born shortly after they had large enough numbers to rival the Sliders. Sorrow is older than me by a few moon cycles, but we were always together. Learning, planning, plotting. She wanted power. I wanted acceptance by the master. We both got what we wanted in the end. Only now, she wants more than she has."

"Sorrow wants to be in charge," she told him. "She told me herself that she did."

Snit's mouth quirked. "Not very surprising. She always wants more. She wanted more attention back when we were kits but I snatched that away from her, right beneath her nose. She was furious."

"She wants you dead," Twist warned him.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Already knew that. Anyway. That's my story. Now you know everything that I do."

"Why did you tell me all of this? Don't you think I'm a traitor?" she accused him, getting back to her feet. Even standing, she was the same height as him, close enough to see her reflection in his marked eyes.

He blinked. "Why did I tell you all this?" he echoed. "Weren't you listening? We want similar things. I want the Claws to leave the Sliders alone, you want the Claws to leave the Sliders alone. I have cats I care about here, you have cats you care about here. I've never endangered the Sliders before, and you…led the Claws straight to our front door. Huh. I guess we _don't _quite have the same goals." His voice was dry.

Twist did not appreciate the sarcasm. "I thought this would be the best way to end things."

"By leading them here? Are you insane? How could that possibly be the best way to solve anything?"

"They're on our ground now," she growled. "And by your little story there, I'm guessing that they don't have a clue about what the Warren's really like. If we can lure them inside, we can catch them by surprise."

"You mean kill them?" he asked wryly.

She winced. "Stop them," she clarified.

"You can't stop Sorrow once she has her mind made up."

"If I have to, I'll stop her myself."

He chuckled without humor. "Of course. The little cat from the mountains can stop a she-cat whose first lesson was to use fury to fight. I see."

"Are you with me or not?" she spat, tail lashing. "I can fix this. You and me, together we can fix this. Please, Snit. This can all be over if we worked together."

Snit's ears flattened. "I don't work with others. Especially not ones who stick their noses into places they don't belong."

"You sound just like Wisp," Twist muttered, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

Snit's eyes darkened. "I can assure you that was not the plan. Alright. I'll help you. But it has to be by _my _rules. No cat here knows about me being Claw blood. It has to be a secret. I can feed Lucky the idea."

"Wisp will never allow it."

Snit chuckled again. "Trust me. I can make Lucky believe me. You just sit tight here."

Twist kept her eyes on him even as he walked toward the mouth of the den. "How can I trust you?" she whispered. "How do I know you'll do what you tell me you will? What if you go up there and tell Lucky they should kill me for being a traitor."

Snit stopped with one paw in the air. Looking over his shoulder at her through the corners of his eyes, he said in a low voice, "I'll tell him what you said. I swear it. If not on my own life, then on Audrey's. I would never allow anyone to hurt her."

"She's the one you meant, when you said about more than friends," Twist murmured. "You love her."

Snit stayed frozen for a second longer, then turned away. "Goodbye, Twist."

He walked up the entrance to the den, leaving Twist alone in the dark.

* * *

**Hee~ Just kidding about the love confession thing waaaaaaaaaay up at the top. This one was simply a coincidence. XD**

**Guys. I am kind of having a crisis here. I would have had this chapter up like six hours ago, but I was watching something that makes me fear for my sanity.**

**My. Little. Pony. (Friendship is Magic)**

**I was lurking around on the internets and I saw a whole bunch of, like, teenaged guys talking about how much they loved the show. And I was all, "Pfft. They must be severely lacking in the man-card area." But then I watched it. As I watched the first episode - headphones in so my mother wouldn't worry more than she already does for my sanity - I found myself first wondering what the hype was all about, then challenging my supposed-maturity when the theme song played, then thinking how cute the ponies were, then admiring the plot and really deep characterization, and then...watching the next eight episodes with no breaks in between. I don't know how that happened, actually, but I think I might love it. HELP ME.**

**But...I'm going to watch more ponies, guys. Everypony should watch it. I SWEAR THAT IT IS GOOD.**

**AAAAHHHH!**

**Shadow (Or maybe, Shadow Runner? That would be cool. Or Shadow Dash! Like Rainbow Dash! Or Shadow Sparkle like Twilight Sparkle!)**

**((Oh, God. HEEEEEEEEELP MEEEEEEEE. I'M TURNING INTO A PONY FAN))**


	24. Chapter 24

**Yaaaaaaaaaawn. It's so late, guys. *_* Either I've been waking up too early or I'm really actually getting old. Bedtime isn't supposed to be until two! XD**

**Priceless Cat Lady - Hee~ I'm glad to know I'm not alone. This is the first kid show I've been hooked on since Avatar, but I don't think that really counts. XD**

**Crowstorm - NEVA STOPPPP. I dunno if I ever wanna stop, really. They're just so adorable. X3 Cliders! I loled so hard at that. I was like they could be the other way, too, but that would make "Slaws" and that reminds me of coleslaw. Not very epic. XD**

**LegendaryHero - I'm on episode eight now, I think, but I haven't gotten to watch in awhile. My brother came down for a visit so I had to teach him how to play Portal. I guess puzzle games aren't good for people who use FAQs the whole time, 'cause he kept checking his computer. I mean, what's the fun in that at all? He did it for LA Noire, too. I figured MLP was made by the Foster's people. The art style looked really similar. But awesomerrrrrrr. XD**

**Amazingly awesome person - Haha! Good to know. I think ponies add to sanity, to be honest! XD I think the cats in my stories have Chronic Backstabbing Disorder - everyone is always switching sides! I need to make a flowchart or something sometimes. I have to go back and check to make sure I didn't change anyone's personality by accident! XD **

**artemis7337 - Oh, no offense taken! I'm blown away that you read all of this straight! I always get deterred by long fics like this, to be honest. XD Whooooooooooa, comparison to Prin Pardus? -totally blushing- T-thank you! And I love heartrending endings, so it will probably be so. :D**

**Tangleflame - Kay! XD**

**Smokefrost - I got the dinosaur expansion or whatever and would just set a whole bunch of T-rex's running around. I do like doing that. Probably more than I should. XD I do love the suspense! Hope I'm doing it alright. XD And I wrote some other Warriors stuff and I wasn't even going to write this one but then...the plot bunnies got to me. They made all these little thoughts in my brain and then I just HAD to write it, y'know?**

**Sky Fireheart - Rescue 911? I've never even heard of that! :O But I generally get addicted to anime. But this time...I dunno. The ponies, they called to me, man. They called hard. XD**

**Ponyiowa - Because I must be dyslexic or something, I wrote your name as "Ponyoiwa." And then I was like, "Wait...That's not right." XD And a sequel? Huh. I hadn't thought of that. I'll have to give that some thought. XD**

**LarkspiritofForestClan - Hee~! Really? -very happy- I'm glad you like it so much! And here's another dose of Sidestep! XD**

**Enough chitty-chat!**

**Onto the story~**

* * *

Twist's stomach was in knots.

Standing on either side of her were two guards—Snit and Viktor, the latter of who was pointedly ignoring her—who were so close she could feel their fur brushing against hers. Lucky stood in front of her, tail swishing slowly, with Wisp at his shoulder, watching with yellow eyes that were deeply and maliciously suspicious.

"I don't understand you, Lucky," Wisp hissed furiously. "Why would you believe her lies?"

"Because, Wisp," Lucky said slowly. "For the first time in as long as my memory serves, she has knowledge of things you swore to me no one would ever discover."

"Who was I to know she'd go snooping around?" she snarled back. "That she would get loose from the Rogue? He's _never _let anyone escape before!"

"I already told you," Twist said, trying to keep her voice calm and neutral. "He didn't let me. I tricked Sorrow into—"

"But that doesn't explain anything!" Wisp snapped, tail lashing. "Sorrow would never allow her precious father to be harmed!"

"Please, Wisp," Lucky said, a little ring of command in his voice. "Let Twist speak. She has knowledge of what we do not know. And as much as I wish to not trust you, Twist, I cannot deny the fact that we are in the midst of a war. We have been for quite some time now." Then his head tipped to the side. "However… Things are direr than I had expected. From the position we are in now, if we do not respond to the Claws' forces, we will suffer losses."

Wisp finally broke her glare at Twist to stare at him. "What are you saying?" she asked breathlessly. "You can't be possibly telling me you want to fight them. That's crazy!"

He bent his head just slightly. "I do not wish to fight. But we must. This has been delayed for as long as it possibly can be. Every moon cycle, one of our own is taken away from us, brought to the Rogue as servants to him and his cats." He nodded at Twist. "I believe her. And no matter what you say now, Wisp, I will launch an attack on Sorrow that will leave her wondering what hit her."

"The Rogue will only respond stronger," Wisp growled.

"Then I will be waiting. Stronger as well."

Wisp stalked around to the front of him, her thick cream fur bristling along her back. "I did not train you to be like this," she hissed low in her throat, her teeth bared slightly. "I expected more from you, Lucky. You need to dissolve this threat, remember? The life of the leader is more important than a few cats taken every so often."

"How can you say that?" And now Viktor spoke for the first time, his voice muted but livid. "Wisp, Lucky… You've always done this? You knew that they took our cats still…" He took a deep breath, turning his face away. "I always thought you didn't go get those cats back because of the loss we'd suffer if the rescue party got captured. But all this time, it's just been because _you _didn't want to get killed?"

Lucky, for the first time Twist had known him, started to look a little uncomfortable. Shifting from one paw to the next, he said in a low voice, "The life of the leader is—"

"The leader should always put his cats' lives before his own!" Viktor exploded. "Why would one cat's life mean more than all the others combined? That's how a true leader operates! Not hiding in the shadows for so long. Lucky, we've known each other since the beginning of the Sliders. I could consider you my best friend. But in all the time we've known each other, you have never once put another cat before yourself. Not me. Not your brother—whom I never breathed a word about. Not even Wisp. It's always been about _you._"

Lucky started, "Viktor, I—"

"Don't. Don't spew that rubbish she's taught you. I remember your 'sessions' from when you were a kit. You and your brother, you—"

"Silence!" Wisp shrieked, but neither side listened to her.

Lucky strode forward, getting right in Viktor's face. "I swore my life to making this group work. To being the best leader that I could possibly be. To rule with distance and forethought and to always keep the Sliders in mind. I have done that. I have always done that."

"There are better leaders in this group than you," Viktor snarled back. "You think that the Sliders rely on you to survive. We don't. We can do just as well without you."

"You believe that you could find a leader better than me? I have made the Sliders a better group than anyone could ever have!"

"No, Wisp did that. You're just her little toy, a plaything. You couldn't lead anyone if she wasn't right there guiding your paw. You're just like a big kit to her. And you need to grow up. If you don't cut out all this self-preservation garbage, you're going to end up with no group at all. The Sliders are already on uneasy ground with you. You've made it impossible for them to feel any pride at all. The Sliders are nothing but a bunch of ragged-pelted cowards, hiding from the big bad Rogue. Who—I almost forgot—you created."

Lucky's eyes went black. "Shut _up!_" he howled, flinging himself forward into Viktor, claws unsheathed.

Viktor's lips pulled back from his teeth as he hissed ferociously, latching all four sets of claws into Lucky's unmarked pelt. They tumbled over and over, a yowling tangle of claws and tails and fangs. Judging by the soft rain of pale fur falling, Lucky had never been in a fight in all his life.

Snit, who had been silent, pushed Twist back against the wall, hiding the two of them in a corner as the fight went on. He watched with wide eyes, as if he'd never seen a fight before in his life.

Twist, who had seen far too many in her short life, saw that Viktor wasn't even fighting full-force. He was playing with Lucky, ripping out pawfuls of fur and leaping away before Lucky could even ready himself.

Wisp was shrieking even louder in the background but the snarls of the fight drowned her out. She tried twice to break them up, only to be rebuffed on both sides by exposed fangs. Eventually she pushed herself against a wall, looking completely stunned.

Viktor finally ended it. Gripping Lucky's scruff in his teeth, he swung the leader as he twisted around, flinging him to the ground hard enough for Twist to feel the impact of it beneath her paws. Lucky hit hard enough to knock the breath out of him, looking up at Viktor with furious, exhausted black eyes. A trickle of blood ran between his eyes down over his muzzle, dripping off the end of his nose. He licked his lips, ears flattened against his scratch-laced head.

Viktor, who was untouched except for a single scratch on his shoulder, stood over him, lips still wrinkled back. "Don't worry," he said, voice ragged from fighting. "You don't have to worry about this attack anymore. _I _am leader of the Sliders now."

Lucky's tattered fur rose along his shoulders. "You?" he spat. "Who will follow you? No one! I am the leader! They will follow me!"

Wisp stepped forward, head low and growling, and attempted to slash at Viktor while he was distracted as she had caught Twist.

But he was too quick. Stepping back a single pace, he watched her claws rake through empty air before dipping his head and shoving her backwards. She lost her footing, falling onto her side with a gasp.

"You think I'd not notice those kinds of cowardly attacks?" he hissed at her. "You're far too pretentious, Wisp. Just because you believe yourself to be the smartest of cats does not give you the right to dole out lashings. Not to mention the fact that you're nothing but a sick old she-cat, sick in the head and sick in the body. I've never liked you."

Wisp's eyes glittered furiously. "The feeling is mutual. You will regret this mutiny."

"Mutiny!" Viktor echoed indignantly. "Hardly. More like stepping-up. I can't sit by any longer and allow this cowardice to go on. You're insulting the whole of the Sliders by pretending we will sit by and take this attack. We are stronger than you give us credit for."

"We are a balanced—" Lucky was still trying to spout his deeply-ingrained leader knowledge but Viktor wouldn't let him continue.

"It's not being successful! What's the point of life if you don't even _try _to do something? You think someone should just be content to sit by and do nothing when they could stand up and protect what they believe in? You're infuriating." He shook his large gray head. "And I won't allow it to continue anymore."

"So this is the part where you wrest control from me?" Lucky demanded, the blood from his head dripping over his mouth again.

Viktor let out one humorless laugh. "That's what you'd think, right? No. This is the part where I ask the Sliders to vote on who they want to lead them. Starting with you." He turned to Snit. "What side are you on?"

Snit looked somberly from Viktor back to Lucky, who was now being helped into a sitting position by Wisp. "I'm with you, Viktor."

Twist, though hardly surprised, noticed the ferventness in his voice. _I guess he's chosen the Sliders over his birth-gang, _she thought.

Viktor nodded, looking pleased. After a short, awkward pause, he turned to Twist. "You are truly on our side?"

"Yes," she whispered, her legs trembling.

Viktor bent his head, his eye clouding with uncertainty. "I'm going to trust you, Twist. I don't have a choice. You brought them here—whether you were well-intentioned or not—and now you're going to help get rid of them. Until every single one of the Claws is gone, you're going to be right by my side, out there in the fray, fighting with me. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she said again, stronger. "My loyalty is with the Sliders now." Her words surprised her; not even two days ago, she had sworn to Sorrow to help her get into the Warren to kill Lucky at the price of Twist's release from both sides of the war. Now, embroiled right in the middle of it, Twist had no desire to run away. Viktor's courage, shown just now, had burned away any uncertainty she had.

Twist was ready to fight.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It didn't take long for the Sliders to gather. They stood underneath the curve of the metal pipe, a few pawsteps up the tunnel from Lucky's den. Viktor had spread the word quickly, and it took to the crowd like a wildfire. Now all eyes were trained on the short rise of earth on which Viktor and Lucky stood, with Wisp glaring miserably behind them.

Twist was waiting in the midst of the group, not wanting to push ahead for fear the word of her being a traitor had spread as quickly. She kept her head down and her back pressed into the side of a box-nest.

More cats trickled in slowly, Snit and Audrey included. They strode quickly over to Twist's side.

"Twist!" Audrey tackled her to the ground delightedly, purring loudly. "I thought you were dead!"

"Yeah, you and everyone else," Twist said, though unable to keep a little bit of happiness out of her voice. It had been so long since she had been among such warm friends. "It's good to see you."

"You too!" Then her eyes drifted to where Viktor stood, confusion entering her green gaze. "I don't understand what's happened. Why is Viktor up there? And what happened to Lucky?"

"Viktor's going to be the leader now," Snit said. Though his voice was as dry and disinterested as ever, his tail was swishing happily behind him. Twist guessed he was thrilled that Audrey's safety had been taken one step further to security.

She gasped. "What?"

"Just listen," Twist assured her. "It's…a difficult time we're about to go through."

At that moment, Viktor cleared his throat. Silence fell among the cats at once as all eyes turned to him with polite though confused attention.

"Sliders," he began. "By now, many of you know of the enemy that waits just outside our walls. For those who do not, the Claws have come to collect Lucky's life as the price of their revenge."

There was a round of soft gasps and quick questions as the Sliders passed this information between themselves.

"We can't let that happen!" one of them cried out, a red-furred tom Twist recognized as Lenny. "Lucky's our leader!"

"Any cat that comes in the Warren and tries to mess with us, we'll fight," his companion growled. A rise of agreement came after his words.

Viktor's eye narrowed victoriously. Half-turning to Lucky, Twist saw him mouth, _I told you. _

Lucky's ears flattened.

Facing the crowd again, Viktor said, "For the entirety of our lives, the fate of the Sliders has rested completely in Lucky's—and Wisp's—paws. They have led us well, true, but when our cats were stolen away by the Rogue, what did we do? We turned our backs on them. Mother lost kits. Cats lost mates. We lost friends. The Sliders lost brother who we never showed the guts to rescue. I ask you now what kind of group you want us to be. With the threat looming outside, we can sit in here and hope they go away. Or," he went on, baring his teeth, "we can fight them. Right now. On our own land. We can drive these cats away and put enough scars into their stinking pelts that they won't forget the Sliders anytime soon. Make your choice. Are you with Lucky? Or me?" His yellow eye burned as he scanned the crowd.

"You're betraying Lucky, Viktor?" a cat demanded, harsh outrage in his voice.

Viktor shook his head. "Lucky betrayed us. By allowing our cats to be taken, he proved himself a cowardly leader. Lucky is my friend. But I can't stand by any longer, especially with the enemy right outside, waiting to storm in and kill us all. So which is it? Will you stay here and die or will you come with me and fight?"

Silence fell, thick and tense, across the Sliders. Twist saw a few cats exchange uneasy glances at their neighbors. No one said anything or stepped forward, but whether that was due to respect to Lucky or unwillingness to fight, Twist couldn't tell.

Finally, Snit spoke up. "I'll fight with you, Viktor."

"Thank you, Snit." Viktor sounded extremely relieved. "Will anyone else?"

"Me!" Audrey scrambled up to Viktor, passing Snit in her eagerness. Twist followed her quickly without saying anything, though she wasn't the only one.

One by one, cats stepped forward, eyes glittering and claws unsheathed, until there was no more room in the tunnel. Viktor pushed through them, parting them like fallen leaves, and led his group into the open space of the front of the Warren, where stacks of machine paws gave him the height he needed to address the group.

The Sliders followed him, leaving Lucky and Wisp behind. Not a single cat stayed with their leader. The fury showed in Lucky's dark eyes, but Twist didn't look back at him again. She kept her eyes forward, her claws unsheathed and gripping the sandy ground, until they were away from the shadowing presence of the Warren and its leader.

Viktor, digging his claws into the smelly black surface of the machine paws, yowled, "We will take what is ours and defend it! We won't allow the Claws to hurt us anymore! We will fight back Sorrow and her miserable band of ratty warriors and take back what is ours! Our cats will come home where they belong!"

A chorus of ferocious snarls and triumphant yowls went up. Twist didn't know Viktor had it in him but here he was, whipping the generally peaceable Sliders into a bloodthirsty fury.

It only then occurred to her that they should be very, very quiet.

She forced her way up to where Viktor was and hissed, "The Claws are right outside our walls, remember? Don't you think we shouldn't be screaming about how we're going to attack them?"

Viktor blinked. "Ahhh…yes. Probably." He leapt down from his perch, hissing out the order for silence. "Everyone, gather here, gather here. We're going to make a plan for how best to handle this problem. Rosa, you and the rest of the she-cats with kits gather them up and take them to the healing den—it's the safest place. Pop, you get two other cats to guard that area with your lives. Ink, get a bunch of darker-pelted cats to snoop around near the edge of the Warren that's closest to the forest. See if you can hear anything. Everyone else, stay vigilant. If you see a Claw enter the Warren, you set up a warning yowl as loud as you can." He turned away from everyone. "Twist, Snit, Audrey, you're with me. Get Kent, too. We're going to make some plans."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A few moments later in a sequestered corner of the Warren, the small planning group met in the darkness. The moon was just a sliver of a crescent in the sky, giving barely a glow of light. It was almost midnight; they didn't have much time left.

"Sorrow's forces are here and here," Twist said, prodding the little drawing she'd scuffed out of the dirt. "These two front corners on either side of the entrance. I didn't hear much," she admitted, scooting back to let Viktor see. "But I did hear her say that she was going to use a 'pincer' method. I guess she's going to rush her forces at whoever comes out first. Unless it's me," she added, as if an afterthought.

Audrey leaned forward, whiskers bristling. "There's no way we can get them that way," she pointed out. "Not unless we leap down from the fence. And I doubt that would be either effective or quiet. Especially not the way most Sliders climb."

"What about using their own tricks against them?" Twist asked. "We could over ourselves with mud and then…"

Snit rolled his eyes. "And then what? Pretend we were Claws that had just come out of the Warren by accident?"

Twist glared at him. "Well, do you have a better idea?"

His mouth quirked. "In fact, I do." He brushed the tip of his tail over the dots marking Sorrow's position. "They're not going to be expecting an attack from us—we're the Sliders—but Sorrow will be watchful to make sure we don't come out the entrance. Remember, we're not even supposed to know they're here."

"So what are you saying?" Viktor asked. "If we don't attack them from above or straight on, how do you expect us to get them?"

Snit's marked eyes glinted. Digging his claws into the map, he gouged out a line from the Warren to the dots. "From below, of course."

Kent gasped. "From below? You mean tunnels?"

"Why not? They surely won't be expecting it. We can run them straight at them"—he extended his line outwards—"and catch them off-guard. Perhaps even sink a few into the hole."

Viktor looked musing. "The ground is very soft on the outside. How will we make a tunnel?"

"The brook makes the ground wet here. We haven't had rain in a few days; the ground will be a little harder than usual. We should be able to mold it any way we like."

"It's a good plan," Twist said begrudgingly. "But won't they hear us tunneling?"

Snit turned his sardonic gaze on her. "If you heard that, would you expect it to be cats digging?"

Twist had to give him that; she would rather assume herself crazy than think the enemy would be burrowing beneath her like moles. She bent her head forward. "Well, it is called the Warren."

Viktor let out a short purr. "Time to see what kind of rabbits live in this Warren."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Viktor chose the cats specifically to work on the tunnels. Twist waited for him, lingering by her map. Snit and Audrey sat close by, their heads together as they talked quietly.

"I'm sorry," Snit was saying in a murmur.

"Don't bother," Audrey snapped. "I'm still mad at you."

"For what? For getting injured by the Claws? For not bringing back cats you'd like more? Like Declan?" His voice went so bitter that it was painful.

Twist felt an uneasy squeeze in her stomach. _Like Declan? Does Audrey like Declan? _The thought went through her heart like a shard of ice. It felt like the ground had dropped out from beneath her paws, sending her down a steep fall.

_Well, that…that would be okay, _Twist thought, pushing past the uncomfortable feeling. _She could like him if she wants .It's no…it's no problem._

But it was a big problem. Huge. Twist felt like she might even be sick.

Blessedly, Audrey hissed, "How can you even say that? Of course I'm glad that you came back."

"You're sure acting like it."

Audrey curled her lip. Tossing her head so she didn't have to look at him, she said, "I'm not going to forgive you for a long time, Snit. You broke my trust by not telling me where you disappear to."

"That's not what I want, Audrey."

"What do you want then, Snit? Because I have an awfully hard time telling sometimes."

Snit turned his head sharply away.

Audrey scoffed. "That's what I thought."

Twist was becoming more and more uncomfortable as they went on. It felt like she should get up and walk away, give them some privacy, but she had been told to stay here… _Not to mention I love to see Snit squirm. _After dealing with the tom's manipulative behavior and mood swings, it was nice to see him feeling troubled for once.

Snit, casting one look at Twist, turned to Audrey and said in one breath, "For the entire time I've been here, I've been working for the Claws on ways to best infiltrate and take control of the Warren."

Audrey didn't even pause to consider that. Snorting, she said sarcastically, "Yeah right. And I'm really a long-legged mouse. Try again, bumblepaws."

Giving Twist a wearily amused look, Snit said, "Okay. How about, I'm the worst cat who ever existed and really, really wants another chance at your trust? Come on, Audrey. Don't do this to me. I'm a really bad friend, I know. But I don't want you mad at me anymore. I can't take—I mean, I don't like it."

Audrey shot him a long look filled with anger and distrust. "Your antics…frighten me. What if you go off by yourself and never come back again? How would I even know if you died? What if I died while you were gone? You wouldn't even know."

Snit, uncharacteristically gentle, pressed his cheek against Audrey's shoulder softly. "I think, no matter where I was in the world, I would know if something ever happened to you, Audrey."

She blinked, mouth dropping open. "Snit…I—"

"Alright!" Viktor strode back over, two teams of five cats with him. "We'll split the group. Snit, you take this one with Twist. Kent and Audrey, you're with me. Twist, you and Audrey are the smallest of us, so you'll need to chart out the paths we're going to tunnel from. Snit, we're going from the exact corner of the fence. Make sure you go down far enough that the tunnel doesn't cave in while you're digging. When you think you've done it well enough, send a scout. We need to synchronize this."

"Yes, Viktor," Snit said, dipping his head. He nodded to one of the teams and they were off, Snit walking several tail-lengths ahead.

"Well, well, Snit," Twist said smugly, tail curling. She trotted alongside him, working hard to keep up with his long strides. "I didn't know you were such a romantic."

Without looking down at her, Snit growled, "Yeah, an eavesdropping little snoop, aren't you? Don't you know when to leave?" Though his words were harsh, his voice was so thick with embarrassment that Twist felt like laughing.

The corner of the Warren had to be removed of rubbish before they could do anything. Snit sent out quick orders—Twist and Scotty, one of the smaller Sliders—were to clear the scraps away from the place where Snit was marking out the tunnel's entrance. While they did so, the digging began.

It seemed to take forever to get going. One cat at a time had to go in and scrape out as much dirt as they could before they had to rest, pelts hanging heavy with clods of dirt and stringy roots. As the tunnel got deeper, the rest of the cats worked to move the dirt away from the entrance, kicking it backwards with their hind legs.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Scotty panted, twitching a weed off of his ear. "I mean, a hole?"

"Shh!" Snit hissed. "Remember, they are right outside this fence. We need to be as quiet as we can."

Though Twist couldn't hear the Claws herself, judging from the position of the moon, she knew they were heading into position. Sorrow had sworn she would attack at midnight—whether or not Twist came out of the Warren.

Snit, his pelt smudged almost completely black with mud, looked exhausted. Twist sat down at his side, watching Yarrow take his turn digging.

"I know what you want to know," Snit said, surprising her.

She looked at him. "I don't know what you mean."

He rolled his head towards her sardonically. "You think I'm going to betray the Sliders."

Twist blinked. "I don't," she said, completely honest. She surprised herself by how much she trusted Snit's loyalty to this group, and if not to the group, then at least to a few cats within it.

Snit looked faintly surprised. "You don't?" he echoed.

She shook her head. "I trusted you when you told me you wouldn't. I believe you."

Snit laughed softly. "I see."

After a short pause, Twist said, "She didn't believe you. Audrey." After a moment's hesitation, she asked, "Are you going to tell her?"

"Only if I have to," Snit said distantly. "I don't want her to hate me."

"I don't think Audrey could ever hate you, Snit."

He closed his eyes with a chuckle. "I think she already does. That's reason enough to not repeat it. It's fate, I think. The world is trying to tell me something."

"You think being dishonest is going to work better than the truth?"

Snit turned amused eyes on her. "It seemed to have worked well for you, Twist."

She flattened her ears. "I don't know what—"

"Come on. Your entire being here was the product of lies. You lied your way into the Sliders for protection. Now you're going to risk your life for them. I find it ironic."

"Do you?"

He shrugged. "It seems like justice in my eyes."

Twist narrowed her eyes. "We have the same story. You lied. I lied."

He laughed a little. "And now we'll both possibly die for our lies. I hope it all works out, because I'm not ready to die yet. Not until I take out Sorrow."

"You're going to kill her?"

Snit looked away. "Only if I have to. If she tries to kill me, like you told me she wanted to, then I'll have to protect myself. The one who would be dying for all of this is the Rogue. I hate him for what he's done to these cats. He's doing the same thing that Wisp did to him. Brainwashing cats for his cause."

That sparked something in Twist's memory. "Why did you allow Declan to be captured?"

Snit didn't say anything for a moment. Then, turning to face her, he said, "Declan begged me for information on where you were. At first, I wasn't going to tell him. I was going to lie and pretend I didn't know. But…he wouldn't take no for an answer. He was going to run off to the Claws either way, regardless of what I said. He was going to get himself killed coming in from the wrong angle. So," he went on, his eyes narrowing a bit, "I told him how to get to the place closest to the cliffs. That's the place—"

"Where the Rogue lives. I know. But why would you send him _there? _Of all places!"

"The master already knew of Declan's existence. Rumors floating around and such. He wanted him because of…" He trailed off, biting his lip.

Twist's eyes narrowed. "Because of what?"

Snit dropped his gaze, speaking to the ground. "Because of how Declan feels about you. My master is…ignorant of the ways of love. He wanted to test the strength of it." His eyes flicked up at her, judging her reaction. "He wanted him so badly because of how much Declan loved—_loves_—you, Twist."

"L-loves me?" Twist choked out. "What… I don't know w-why you…"

Snit rolled his eyes. "Come on. Like you're really going to pretend you didn't know. That you don't feel the same way about him."

Twist, jaw still hanging open, took an involuntary step backwards. _Declan loves me? _her brain repeated, blank with shock. "You're…you're wrong. Declan and I, we're—"

"Just friends?" Snit said sarcastically. "Don't be such a kit, Twist. I've seen the way you look at him."

"I don't look at him in…in any kind of way," Twist stammered. Her brain was still echoing Snit's words. It could be true. It must be a dream, a wish, a hopeful but delusional hallucination. Declan couldn't love her. She was a dysfunctional, insecure little rat of a cat. No one could love her. No one would want to. She was nothing, a blank. She shook her head, not wanting the hope that soared in her chest like a bird. Not wanting to give into that hope, no matter how much she wanted to.

"You love him," Snit accused.

"I…" Twist didn't know what to say. Is that why she had been feeling so off lately? Why Declan had dominated her thoughts? Why she had ached for him, for his voice, his scent, his calming presence? Is that why she was so comfortable with him? Is that why she couldn't imagine a future without his amused expression and his dark green eyes and his unshakeable optimism?

_I love him, _she realized, an electric shiver running down her spine.

Snit didn't say anything more. The smugness in his eyes said it all.

At that moment, Viktor came running into view. He kept his weight low over his paws, his head bent forward. In the darkness, his single eye shone greenish. "Be ready," he whispered. "I have Kent set up on the other side. You're finished?"

"Yes," Snit answered just as Yarrow popped out of the hole, a little pyramid of dirt perched on his head. "We just have to break through to the surface and we'll be good."

Viktor's eye glittered. "Perfect. I sent word through the Sliders. We're going to force the Claws into the middle of the gate—see if we can get them to come inside. They've been dying to see the inside of the Warren. It's time we gave them a peek, don't you think?"

Snit nodded firmly, eyes flashing.

Viktor turned to Twist. "Are you ready?"

She swallowed hard, then nodded. "Remember, Declan is out there." The sound of his name strangled in her throat.

Viktor looked sympathetic. "I know. I've told everyone to keep an eye out for him. He might smell like enemy, but he's on our side." Swiftly, he stepped forward and brushed his muzzle against Twist's forehead. "I'm…I'm sorry," he choked out.

Twist closed her eyes. She wondered if this comfort was what having a father was like. "I'm sorry, too. I would never betray the Sliders."

"I believe you." He pulled back, clearing his throat gruffly. Looking away in embarrassment, his pelt pricking, he added, "Be safe. All of you."

"We will be," Snit promised.

Viktor nodded once more, then melted back into the night.

They waited a few heartbeats after he had gone, then turned to the tunnel. It gaped in front of them, a cavernous mouth waiting to swallow them. Twist trembled involuntarily at the thought of disappearing into that darkness.

Scotty, the tiny brown tom, scooted closer to her. "We're going to give them a taste of what courage is," he growled toughly, puffing out his chest.

Comforted by his bravado, Twist licked her dry lips. "Definitely."

The air was charged with tension. All seven of them crouched, eyes on the tunnel. Twist turned to Snit on her side, seeing the determination that locked his jaw and narrowed his eyes. Every muscle in his body was on high alert.

_And now we'll both possibly die for our lies._

Twist whispered to him, "Good luck, Snit."

He looked over at her, eyes glittering faintly with amusement. "Good luck, Twist."

And for a moment, everything seemed sleepily peaceful. There wasn't a sound in the air, not birds or wind or animals in the distance. Just the seven of them, standing so close it was like they were a single cat, breathing together, hearts beating together.

The yowl sounded from the center of the Warren, shattering the still night, and they plunged into the tunnel.

* * *

**Wooooo! There's gonna be action in the next chapter, I swear! XD I feel like I'm just stringing you guys along with plot now, but there's just...a lot of explaining to do. But there will be fur flying in the next one! Pinky-swear!**

**And what up with all the ads on FFnet now? I mean, seriously, every time I go to look at my profile or something, a thing pops up and tries to tell me something against my will. Just leave me alone, ads! I don't want anything you're trying to sell me! -sadface-**

**Anyhoo. Time for bed, I think. It's for the best. XD**

**Clickity-clack that review button!**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	25. Chapter 25

**Sooooooooorry this took so long. This is the homestretch of WriDaNoJu. So this chapter marks my 75K completion! Wooooooooooo! 75K in twenty-four days doesn't seem that bad at all, does it? Also, I wrote like 12K today so I'm reeeeeeeeeeeeally tired of writing right about now. XD Darn last-minute things. I do like working under pressure, though. =3**

**LarkspiritofForestClan - Hee~ I wuv both of them. XD**

**Crowstorm - Yo yo yo! Word to your mothaaaaaaa'! That's about it. And I'm the whiteyest whitey in all of whiteydom. XD Not so much the gore - I don't much care for that - but plenty of fighting! Fightfightfight!**

**Sky Fireheart - Oooooh~! That sounds interesting! I do love Deadliest Catch now, and Dual Survival, and Cake Boss. I have lots of shows I love, actually. XD **

**Queen of Pens - Aaw, you want Lucky to die? -thinks of the possibilities-**

**LegendaryHero - Ooh, my bad. *Pinky Pie Swear. There we go. XD It is so hard to do a good fight scene. If you go to omniscient PoV, which doesn't really always make sense, it seems like an overview strategy game or something. But if you stay in one character's mind, you have to focus on their fights, on their observations. Plus cat fights are really repetitive. XD You'll have to tell me if I did an alright job! XD I'm only on episode nine, unfortunately. My pony time is severely lacking because of WriDa, but now that that's over, I can go back to the magic! -shiny eyes-**

**theDiabolical - Whoooooooooa! -huge eyes- Majorly high praise. Careful, or you'll give me such a big head, I won't be able to sit upright! XD**

**Amazingly Awesome Person - I do love the adult kit kind of deal. I like to think that the Rogue is like that, too. Something stunted in his poor little cat brain. And oh no! Did you have to take him to the vet? That happened to my guinea pig Dawson and I had to take him in and get it poked with a needle. Poor little piggy did NOT appreciate that! You'll have to tell me if he's alright! D:**

**Smokefrost - I never got into Sailor Moon for whatever reason. I remember watching it when I was younger and not understanding anime and just wondering about how she got her head to look like little blonde meatballs with pigtails streaming from them. XD **

**tufted titmouse - Man, I wish I had your machine, then! I can't even log in and get to this page without it coming up. D: **

**ponyiowa - I do love the love. =3 **

**artemis7337 - Oh, God. Bones. They drew it out for so long it was physically painful for me to watch that show. BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH. D: I do like the ones with mixed personalities. I mean, no one is entirely good or bad, y'know? Shades of gray and all that. Which is probably why I always liked Darkstripe. I even named a Mightyena after him! XD**

**Tangleflame - Heehee~! I'm glad you like it! :D**

**Okay.**

**Enough of the jibba-jabba!**

**Onto the story~**

* * *

Outside the Warren, the Claws were in place. Declan was with the second group, the one perched at the far side of the gate. They stood on the other side of the fence, peering around the corner to keep a fix on the ghostly pale entrance to the Warren. He narrowed his eyes, trying to keep the adrenaline from making his heart beat so quickly, and thought back to when Twist had been late in coming back.

_Sorrow was livid. "That filthy, lying traitor!" she spat, raking her claws through the dirt. "She told me she would get Lucky out by midnight! It's almost time and I haven't seen anything! Leo," she snarled next, almost making him leap out of his fur in surprise, "you go down to the barrier and check it out. Tell me if you can hear anything."_

_And so Declan did. Scooting alongside the fence, he pressed his shoulder against the pale wood. So __close, he thought, and still an outsider, a stranger. _

_He managed to make it all the way up to within a few tail-lengths from the gate before he heard a yowl rise up: "—__and defend it! We won't allow the Claws to hurt us anymore! We will fight back Sorrow and her miserable band of ratty warriors and take back what is ours! Our cats will come home where they belong!"_

_Declan was shocked. That was Viktor speaking! _

Has Lucky handed over command to him? _Declan wondered. Almost immediately, he discredited the idea. As if Lucky could bear to part with control of the Sliders unless his life was on the line. _

_Suddenly, it went quiet within the walls of the Warren. Declan pressed his ear against the wood but couldn't hear anything else. _

_Darting back up to the hillside, he caught the attention of both Sorrow and Sparrow. "Well?" Sorrow demanded. "What did you hear?"_

_Declan shook his head. "Not a thing. It's silent as death in there." _

_Sorrow accepted this without question, though Sparrow's eyes lingered on him for far too long for comfort. It was impossible that he suspected him, right? After all, Sparrow was the one cat who everyone in the Claws trusted warily—after all, Declan had heard, Sparrow was responsible for the release of a mountain she-cat who had been vital to the Rogue's entire operation. For whatever reason. Declan had never asked far beyond that, afraid of poking his nose into business of which he had no right. _

And now they were preparing the attack. Declan had dug his claws deeply into the soil, trying to shake some confidence into his bones. He knew he couldn't raise a claw against the Sliders—they were his friends, after all—but could he switch sides in the middle of a battle? Could he attack the Claws right there out in the open without retribution? Sorrow would kill him.

But it would be worth the risk.

"Be prepared," Midnight, the leader of their group, hissed. His claws, long and hooked, were kneading the soil in preparation for attack.

"I am _so _ready for this," the Shredder almost purred. "I've been dying to attack."

Declan looked away, repressing the desire to gag. The Shredder, a puny little punk of cat, had long since proved his uselessness in battle. He was a sniveling coward and every cat knew that. Why he had been allowed onto this attack group in the first place was mystifying.

Then he realized that the Shredder could possibly have been brought along for the simple fact that he would be claw fodder for the Sliders. Nothing was more distracting than an easy target.

"And I'm starving," the Shredder continued in a plaintive yowl. "Can't we go hunt?"

"You should have hunted before," Zib snapped. "Now you're holding the rest of us up. Just shut up and be quiet. You'll have your fill of fighting soon."

Declan sighed tightly, his discomfort sitting in his ribs like a weight.

"Seriously, I might die if I don't get a bite to eat. I caught a mouse but Sorrow took it."

"Sorrow needs it more than you do," Midnight spat. "She's actually capable in a fight. You're just going to be a burden to everyone. Nobody's going to want to save you."

"No one needs to save me! I'll be showing you all up!" The Shredder puffed out his chest, taking a step forward, that weird tufty bit of fur on his head flipping upwards like a fledgling's feathers.

Midnight pressed them closer to the fence until their fur brushed against it. "Should be time soon," he whispered. "We just have to wait for Sorrow's call and—"

A high yowl raked its way into the air, nearly splitting Declan's ears. The entire group froze.

"That…wasn't Sorrow," Zib said slowly.

As soon as he spoke, Declan felt a rumble beneath his paws. He sprang back, his fur on end.

The sound was coming from…_underground_?

The Shredder was the only one who didn't move. His head was cocked so extremely to the side that Declan half-thought he would fall over. "Badgers?" he thought aloud, his head tipping to the other side as he listened.

Midnight, eyes wide in surprise and a little bit of fear, said, "Go look, Shredder."

The Shredder, who had already gone over to where the dirt was now pushing up a bit, turned angrily to Midnight and spat out, "I _told _you. I told all of you! For the final time, my name is _the _Shredder! Not just—"

The ground, which had been rising steady just in front of the Shredder's paws, suddenly burst open like an abscess.

A pair of paws raked out of the dirt, claws extended and glistening, and grabbed the Shredder around the neck, pulling him beneath the ground.

The Claws let out a simultaneous screech of terror.

"Stay together, stay together!" Midnight was shrieking the words above the yowling but his voice was almost lost. Declan, bolted to the ground with the strength of his fright, stared at the gaping hole in the ground. At once, a roiling mass of fur and hard eyes boiled up out of the dirt, shaking off pelts thick with clods. They attacked at once, seizing upon the nearest cats, rolling over and over again in the dirt.

Declan's first thought was, _These cats have come back to life to kill the ones who stole their families._

His second thought was, _I need to get out of here._

His third thought was, _The Sliders have truly thought out their plan well. _

They looked terrifying, with shaggy clumps of dirt clinging to their fur, dragging off their bellies. Now that he had really begun to look, the place where the Sliders had erupted from was loose, falling through in some places to show tunnels.

_Genius._ No Claw was expecting their enemy to lurch up out of the ground, looking like the dead reanimated. The fury that lit the Sliders' eyes was strong enough to scorch right through the Claws' smooth procedure of cold concentration.

Declan was so busy marveling at it all that he didn't even notice the cat flying at him, claws extended, until it was too late. It hit him with the force of a boulder, knocking him onto his back. Twisting immediately, Declan seized his claws into the cat's thick belly fur, catching it there and tossing it aside with nothing more than a lucky bruise. Before he could think straight, he had leapt on top of the cat and sank his teeth into its neck.

"D-Declan?" the cat squeaked.

"Audrey?" Declan gaped. "You tried to rake my pelt off!"

"You actually _did _rake my pelt off!" She licked her shoulder with a resentful set of her jaw, though her eyes were shining with excitement. That thrill that only a battle could bring. He never imagined he would see it in _Audrey's_ eyes, of all cats. "Twist knew you'd be here! Come on, there are some Claws over there we need to—"

A cat rushed her, bowling her over with a choked-off screech, his teeth in her scruff. He flipped her onto her side, stepping heavily onto her ribs, hard enough for Declan to hear the strain of bones.

Sorrow turned to Leo, still standing on Audrey though now with her claws extended. "Why is it," she asked in a voice taut with fury, "that you were speaking with this cat, Leo? Don't you know that all these cats are enemies? Every single cat who doesn't smell of your master, Leo. So go out and fight now. And don't let me catch this again."

Declan hesitated, hoping, praying that it did not show on his face.

Sorrow, confident that he would obey, turned back to Audrey, lips pulled back to expose her fangs. She snarled, "Let's see how stale the blood of the Sliders runs these days!" She lunged toward Audrey, ready to rip, to tear, and Declan was helpless to move. Audrey's green eyes fixed on his, a silent, begging plea, but he couldn't budge a mouse-length.

"_Stay away from her!"_ A black and white blur came out of nowhere, hitting Sorrow so hard that Declan felt the reverberated impact deep in his own bones. Snit, a snarling mass of fangs and claws and furious spitting insults, tackled Sorrow again, forcing her to the ground, her chin digging into the sand.

Her eyes, ferocious and marked just like his, fixed on him with a hatred that almost hurt to look at. "You!" she screamed, twisting around so that she was lying on her back, all four sets of claws exposed and glistening as she ripped at Snit. "You dare show your face to me? Filthy, stinking traitor, wait until the master gets his claws into you! If you're lucky, you'll live long enough to beg and grovel for his forgiveness!"

Snit leapt backwards, every hair on his pelt on end, and sprang again, barreling Sorrow over and over again, raising a cloud of dust that made Declan choke. "He's not my master," he snarled, sinking his teeth into Sorrow's back until she screamed in agony. "And you're nothing to him, Sorrow. You're not the kit he wanted. I am. And I reject him. I reject everything he has to say! He's nothing to me now! I'd kill him as easily as I'll kill you if you don't leave this instant! I'll kill every Claw on my land!"

"Your land? Lucky's land, you mean!" Her eyes raked the clearing, filled with a turbulent mass of bodies, twisting and writhing in a deadly dance. "I don't see him out here," she went on, her voice maliciously sarcastic. "Has his luck run out?"

"Lucky doesn't have to deal with you," Snit growled gutturally, his head sunk below his shoulders. His eyes glowed in the half-light. "Because I'll take care of you myself. Your time is here, Sorrow!"

She laughed, raucously like a crow. "I'd like to see you try! Insolent kit, I was a warrior before you were even _born!" _

They fought again, a shrieking tangle of silver and white, shot through with black. Declan caught the shine of their eyes, reflecting the madness that burned within like a sickness.

Audrey stared, watching with a kind of fascination.

"Get away!" Declan yelled, coming to his senses. He nudged her shoulder, pushing her along. "Go find another cat to fight!"

Her eyes never left Snit. "But…but he—"

"This is Snit's fight. Go find your own." When she didn't move, he arched his back and hissed in her face. "_Go!"_

Her eyes, wide and frightened, flicked to his face once before she turned and fled, disappearing back into the fray.

Declan watched her a moment, out of breath and shaking, until he followed her himself.

The next cat that hurled itself at him was a black cat he recognized as Ink, one of the Sliders he had worked with many times during his moon cycle of service. "Stop!" Ink shrieked, clawing the air in front of him. "Don't come a pawstep closer or I swear I'll make your fur run red!"

Declan just stared. "It's already red," he pointed out, stunned.

Ink's eyes narrowed to slits. "I'll make it redder!" he snapped. "We'll see if your blood is as strong as your friends, Claw filth!"

Declan evaded Ink's ill-planned attack, darting back into the crowd. He heard the tom yowl curses at him but ignored him. There was only one cat on his mind right now and he had to find her, to protect her. There wasn't a cat he would rather stand and fight beside.

As he fled, ducking beneath fangs and darting around slashing claws, Declan couldn't help but marvel in a kind of sick enthrallment at the battle. He had never been in a fight on such a large scale before. Everywhere he looked, he saw claws splitting skin, ears being shredder, clumps of fur falling like rain. And all the while, the caterwauling of wounded cats set the beat for the fight, pulsing louder with every blow and every kick, every bite and every lash.

It was horrifying. It was terrifying. It wasn't a victory, not for the Claws and not for the Sliders and certainly not for the Rogue. Cats could die tonight, Declan realized, sidestepping past a fallen cat with blood slowly seeping through its white fur. Cats would die for this, for nothing. For a war with too few players and too much hatred.

It was sickening.

The fight in front of him stopped in his tracks. Rowan, the heavy cat he was, was pinned on the ground by the joint efforts of Kent and Marco. The small tom had grown into quite the warrior, Declan thought, as he shredded Rowan's pelt to ribbons. Rowan was shrieking with pain, his eyes rolling back in his head.

He caught sight of Declan. "Leo!" he called, voice shrill with fear and agony. "Thank the stars! Leo, help me!"

Declan froze in place. He couldn't get the picture of this cat raking his claws down Twist's beautiful dark pelt out of his mind.

Rowan's eyes glazed with confusion. "Leo!" he called again. "Help me!"

That caught the attention of Kent. He swiveled around to stare at Declan, eyes widening as he realized who he was. "By the stars," he breathed, barely audible over the cries on the battlefield. "It can't be."

Marco's jaw dropped.

At their lack of attention, Rowan made his move. Twisting on the ground, he managed to get his paws, shaky and unsteady, beneath him. Slouching heavily to one side, he lunged to Declan's side, pressing his flank against Declan's. "Leo," he panted, his voice ragged. A line of blood trickled out from his mouth. "We can take them. Double team them. We can do it. Ready?" He staggered forward pitifully before falling to his side.

Declan crouched beside him, looking up at Kent with desperation. "Don't kill him," he begged. "He's just an old sick cat."

Marco's eyes narrowed. "He's a Claw," he said coldly. "If you protect him, you're one of them." Then his eyes widened. "He called you Leo. Are you not one of us anymore, Declan?"

Kent seemed similarly curious. One ear lay back on his head in tattered, slowly seeping blood through his gray pelt. "Well?" he growled.

Declan could say nothing in his defense. "Don't kill him," he whispered again. "He's a Claw but…he doesn't know what he's doing. None of them do."

"He certainly knew when he bit off Max's ear!" Kent yowled.

Declan turned to Rowan, who was all the way to his belly now, his eyes barely open. A deep slash bisected his shoulders, filling the air with the sickening smell of blood. "Is that true?"

Rowan didn't seem to hear him.

Kent growled, "It was him. I remember. He wanted to kill Max, Declan. You'll protect a murderer over your own group? We might not be kin, but we're family. And this cat tried to steal a member of that family. You're going to sit there and take that?"

"You don't understand what I've been through," Declan said. He stood protectively over Rowan, despite how sick he felt protecting one who had brought harm to Twist. "Or this cat. He might have been through the same."

"I've seen enough," Marco said darkly. He stepped forward, falling into a hunter's crouch. "If you don't get out of the way, I'll have to go through you. And I will. While you were out with the Claws getting all buddied up, I was training. I'm not a little messenger anymore, Declan. I'm a warrior too. And I'll fight until I die to protect the ones I love!" He leapt on the last word, launching himself straight at Declan with claws unsheathed.

Declan stood there, unmoving. He closed his eyes as Marco approached, not willing himself to show any trace of fear at the coming pain.

But Marco never made it.

"What's gotten into you?" Twist scolded Marco, cuffing him over the head. "Can't you see that this cat has been beaten? He can't even stand!" Once she was done spitting at Marco, she turned to Rowan, without looking at Declan. She looked down at Rowan, not a trace of pity in her eyes. "I remember you," she began. "You're the one who carved his mark into my skin."

Rowan looked up at her, bleary gaze clearing for a split-second. "Twist."

"That's right. You nearly killed me. See this?" She turned, displaying a shoulder that was still red beneath a patch of dark brown fur. "You did that to me. And I will never forgive you for what you did. I'll never stop seeing your face when I think of how much I hate the Claws. I will never get your voice out of my head when I think about my capture. But," she went on, and her voice turned into barely above a whisper, "I can't let someone kill you. You're a miserable, vicious, ignorant old cat, but you don't deserve to die. And it's not up to me when your life should end. So go." She slammed her forepaws into the ground in front of Rowan, startling him into sitting position. "Go! And if I ever see you on Slider territory again, I'll let Marco treat you the way you treated me!"

Rowan stared at her with something close to awe. "I… Thank you."

Twist's lip curled. "I don't want your thanks. Get out of here!"

And Rowan obeyed.

Once he was gone, Twist let out a deep breath, her shoulders sinking forward. Turning around, she said in a businesslike voice, "Well, that takes care of that."

Declan rushed her at once, pressed his muzzle against the top of her head. He placed one paw on top of hers, burying his nose against her fur and drinking in her scent. "Twist," he whispered against her fur.

Twist turned and pushed her muzzle against his white chest fur. He could feel her purr through his body, vibrating off his bones. "I'm home," she breathed.

Declan closed his eyes. _Please let this moment last forever, _he thought.

Kent cleared his throat. "Shall I give you two a moment alone?" he asked in a voice tinged with annoyance.

Declan pulled away first, still keeping Twist as close as he could. Kent was staring at him with open loathing while Marco was staring anywhere but at the two of them, his fur prickling with discomfort.

"You know, we do have a battle going on, right?" Kent went on, eyeing Twist with a little more suspicion. Declan wondered what Twist had done to garner this kind of response from everyone.

"We'll go fight together," Twist said roughly, glaring hard at him. "Come on, Declan." She raced away towards where the sounds of fighting were thickest, her tail raised with excitement.

Declan shot Marco and Kent a look that was probably less apologetic and more giddily amused, and took off after her.

When he caught up with her, Twist spat, "I'm so tired of this. I get home from the Claws and everyone here treats me like I'm going to turn on them and kill everyone with my eyes alone. I mean, really! What's the deal with these crazy cats?" She ducked underneath the cuff of a cat of indeterminate color, his pelt smeared flat with mud. "I risk my life over and over for them—against my better judgment—and they still treat me like an outsider!"

Declan pounded the cat with both forepaws, leaving him stunned and senseless in the dirt. "I don't know," he responded, grabbing another Claw with his teeth and swinging it to the ground, stepping back for Twist to take several quick jabs at its belly. "Maybe they really will be suspicious forever."

Twist kicked sand into the Claw's eyes, waiting for him to make another attack, but he fled with his tail fluffed out to twice its size. She let out a jeering yowl after him, puffing out her chest. She turned to him, her yellow eyes positively sparkling. "And that's how you do it," she said, closing her eyes happily.

Declan was overwhelmed by her presence. He gently touched his nose to hers, surprising her into opening her eyes. "Twist, I—"

"Look out! Look out! Incoming!" Pop and Lenny had just arrived, doling out nose-slashing to anyone who got close. "Real Sliders coming through! Look at how well we're fighting. Pop, I am just so surprised, aren't you?"

"Sure am," Lenny replied, casually pouncing on a Claw's unwitting back and sending him into the dirt. "I've never even unsheathed my claws before!"

"What about catching mice?" Pop asked, dancing back on his hind legs as a Claw rushed him.

Lenny grabbed the Claw's tail, pulling hard enough to make the cat shriek. "I just always use to Claw method," he answered readily. "Wait until a family of mice goes by and just steal the youngest. Why go for the older ones when you can pick the young'uns off with ease? I mean, it works for them, doesn't it? Who cares about honor when you can have ease!"

Declan and Twist ran past them—they clearly had everything covered—to where Viktor was fighting three cats at once and holding his own.

One of them—the horrible cat the Shredder—was clinging to Viktor's back, laughing obnoxiously loud. "Can't touch me, can you, you Slider filthy?" he called cheerfully, digging his teeth into Viktor's ears. "How 'bout I give you a lashing and make your eyes match? You could finally have symmetry back!"

Viktor reared up on his hind legs, shaking his powerful shoulders back and forth, but the Shredder had a firm grip. He dug his claws even deeper into Viktor's thick tabby fur, pricking the skin hard enough to make Viktor screech.

Declan leapt and barreled the Shredder off Viktor's back, slamming him into the ground. "I'd tell you to pick on ones your own size but it appears this battle has run out of mice," Declan said, baring his fangs.

The Shredder's eyes widened. "No way!" he cried. "Leo? You're one of ours!"

"It's Declan actually," he corrected him, pushing his shoulder deeper into the dirt. Leaning right up into the Shredder's face, he said, "That name-changing thing doesn't work for me, Daffodil."

The two Claws, distracted and open-mouthed by the Shredder's sudden turn of bad luck, guffawed. "Daffodil!" one of them echoed. "What kind of stupid name is that?"

"Shut up!" the Shredder shrieked. "I will have respect!"

"Try being a good fighter next time," Declan growled, sinking his claws into the Shredder's fur. "And you can take that fact right back to that master of yours. Tell him that Leo is through with him!"

"Leo might be," a cold voice suddenly said. "But you certainly are not, Declan."

Declan whirled, jaw dropping. Unnoticed, the Shredder squirmed out from under his grasp and joined the cat, licking his wounds.

It was Sorrow. Her mouth quirked rather scornfully as she looked at him, tail swishing behind her in quick lashes. "I knew you couldn't possibly still be ours," she said calmly, though her tail jerked quickly at the end of her words. "That look in your eyes left as soon as you came back with her. I knew I shouldn't have trusted you."

"You never trusted me!"

"I did!" Sorrow spat, now sounding finally angry. "And you betrayed me! You betrayed the Claws!"

"I was never one of you!" Declan snapped back, the fur spiking along his back and up his neck. "I have always belonged to the Sliders!"

Sorrow's eyes narrowed to furious slits. "You're lucky that my father isn't here to see you. He had such confidence in you."

"Because you brainwashed me! I wouldn't be where I am now if it wasn't for you!"

"Yes," Sorrow drawled, rolling her eyes. She took a lithe step forward, challenging either of them to make a move. "I did lead you back here, didn't I? And I led her back too." She hissed furiously in Twist's direction. "And look at the two of you. Together. Betraying everything that you could be. I could have made you great. You could have served a powerful master. But instead you crawl back to Lucky on your bellies like worms!"

Twist bared her teeth, stepping forward so quickly that Declan had to stop her. "I would never serve him!" she yowled. "He's nothing to me! Nothing to anyone but Lucky! You don't even want him, do you? You just want his position! You think that this is going to change anything? Well? Do you?" When Sorrow was silent, Twist went on: "You couldn't possibly kill him yourself. You wanted this battle to start so you could send him out here yourself. So he could die in battle. Well, that's not going to happen, is it? You've failed, Sorrow. You've failed your cats. You've failed your father. You're nothing."

Sorrow's eyes curved upwards as she took a step sidelong, eyes brushing over both Declan and Twist. "I see you haven't noticed anything, have you? Look around you. Your cats are dying, Twist. No one will be left from this war. Not the Claws, not the Sliders. And not you. You're the one who will be nothing. You came poking your nose in where it didn't belong, trying to uncover our secrets. And you know what? You did. All except one."

Declan growled to Twist, "She's lying. Don't trust her."

"Oh, I'm not," Sorrow assured him. She took another step, her paws light on the ground, despite the screams and howls in the background. Her eyes narrowed again to lovely slits and even Declan had to admit she was a beautiful she-cat. But her beauty was terrible, horrifying. She used it against cats. She had used it against him. Even though that smoke-haze in parts of his brain, he could remember Sorrow's wily charms.

Suddenly, Twist said, "Where's Snit?"

Declan's stomach dropped. The last time he had seen Snit, he'd been battling with Sorrow. Now here Sorrow was, alone, with Snit nowhere to be seen.

Sorrow's mouth twisted again. "I'm sorry?"

"What did you do with him?" Twist yowled, leaping a pace forward, her back arched.

Declan was stunned. He didn't know that the two of them were so close. Twist had always seemed unsettled by the black-and-white tom—especially after his betrayal. And even now, seeing Snit battling Sorrow had been a shock: he must have switched sides mid-battle.

"I didn't do anything to him." Sorrow sighed dramatically. "He tried to pick a fight with me and I just had to put him in his place. Just like I did when he was a kit. Only this time it was a little more…permanent." Her teeth bared, white and glistening. "He should have listened to me when I swore to kill him."

Twist stared at her a moment longer. Then she pushed past Declan, not even aiming for Sorrow, and disappeared into the crowd. Declan followed her with his eyes, not wanting to believe the sickening pit in his stomach caused by Sorrow's words.

"You better go find her," Sorrow told him. He looked at her; her face was completely wiped of emotion. "She's about to make a very grave mistake."

Declan curled his lip at her. "If you've killed him, I'll—"

She laughed coldly. Curling her tail suddenly around the Shredder's neck, making the tom choke in surprise, she said, "I told you, Declan. I want things to change. Nothing will change if someone doesn't get them moving. Come." The last word was a command to the Shredder. The two of them disappeared again back up the hill.

Declan stared at them, wanting to rake all the fur off Sorrow's pelt. Then he turned and followed Twist.

He found her on the edge of the battlefield closest to the forest. It was the place where he had last seen Snit.

Panting, he demanded, "What are you doing, Twist?"

She didn't turn around. "I can't find him," she said, her voice thin and broken. "I can't find Snit. What if she's killed him, Declan?"

"He's a traitor," Declan spat.

"He's not!" She spun around, her yellow eyes very bright. "He's been on our side all along, fighting for the Sliders. He might have started off on the other side but he's definitely for the Sliders. The Claws were wrong—they were all wrong for him." She was rambling, taking huge heaving breaths. "He can't be dead. He can't be."

"Calm down, calm down." He pulled her towards him, reveling in the simplicity of this contact. "It's okay, we're going to find him."

Twist hid her face against his fur. "I'm scared," she whispered.

He leaned his cheek against the top of her head. "I am too," he admitted. "But we're going to win this, Twist."

"How?" she demanded raggedly.

He sighed. "I don't know. But we will. We can do it."

Twist was silent for a moment more. "He sent you to me."

He pulled back to look at her. "What?"

Twist looked down at the ground, eyes hard. "Snit did. He sent you to me. He told me you wanted to find me. And he also told me he sent you right where the Rogue would find you. They did…they did horrible, unspeakable things to you, didn't they, Declan?"

He looked away. Part of him wanted to keep that a secret but the other was dying to spill everything to her. He eventually gave in to both sides and said, "Yes."

She nodded, as if it had confirmed something in her mind. "Thank you."

Declan laughed weakly. "What are you thanking me for? I couldn't have left you there to die."

"You could have," she murmured, so gently. "You could have. It would have been easier that way."

His heart panged. "It would not have been easier," he assured her. "In no way imaginable."

"You don't think so?" There was something in her voice, an undercurrent of some emotion that was almost untraceable.

He touched his nose to hers gently, closing his eyes. "Absolutely not."

There was a high shrieking noise, splitting the air even above the screams and yowls of the Claws and Sliders.

Declan looked up the side of the hill, past the clusters of fighting cats, to where a single cat perched on the top of the hill. "Oh, stars," he breathed.

It was the Rogue. And stretching out on either side of him were lines and lines of cats, more than the Sliders—more than twice the amount of Sliders.

The entirety of the Claws had come to the battle.

* * *

**Guys, I wrote this in an hour in a half. I AM SO BEAST.**

**But now my wrists ache and it's almost three in the morning. And I have to get up early tomorrow. D:**

**Oh well. You suffer for your art, I suppose. XD**

**I don't really have anything else to say, so... RANDOM FACT TIME.**

**Did you know that most people have an above average number of legs? Think about it. It's true. **

**:D**

**You know what to do!**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	26. Chapter 26

**Heeeeeeeeeeey! I'm baaaaaack~**

**It's been awhile, so...sorry. But I've had lots of stuff to do and...stuff. And I got a new fish! His name is His Royal Highness, Prince Robert Reginald Julius Augustus IV. Not that there's been three of them before him but you have to have a IV tacked onto any good name, amirite? XD**

**LarkspiritOfForestClan - Heehee! As do I! XD**

**Amazingly awesome person - Hamsters are smaller than guinea pigs - like tailless gerbils. Only fatter. And not as cool because guinea pigs are the cooliest! My guinea pig before Dawson was named Soren and he was pretty crazy, too. Like, the first time I let him out on my lap, he trying to take a header off the sofa. He grew out of it, though. XD**

**Queen of Pens - I know, right? I learn these things from the Vlogbrothers. XD**

**Before Winter's Dawn - Tribe cats? Huh. I hadn't thought of that! -files away for further reflection- And that's what I remember about Sailor Moon, too. XD**

**tufted titmouse - I think I gots it. I haven't been getting as many lately, which makes for a very happy Shadow. XD**

**Sunfeather15666 - But...I had to! It was a necessary must! XD**

**theDiabolical - Oh, yes. Cat blood and fur flying EVERYWHERE!**

**LegendaryHero - Darn. I am so not good at this whole battle-writing thing. It's either repetitive or not even a battle, y'know? I tried a little harder with this one but it still ended up being kind of a discussion, which is what I wanted out of it anyway. XD And I LOVE teasing the readers! That's how I keep getting y'all to come back - not just for my sunny (read: crazy) personality!**

**artemis7337 - Okay. Scenario. So you've got three people, right? Two of them have two legs and one of them has a prosthetic leg because he got his leg chewed off by a rampaging manticore. So, if we tally those up, the average will be lower than two because you've got two and two and one put together. See? I knooooooow. Battles are really boring to write, so I hope it at least didn't come off as boring. XD**

**ponyiowa - Haha, you and me both! X3**

**Tangleflame - Battles, battles, everywhere!**

**Priceless Cat Lady - -puts a pot over head- That frying pan isn't directed at me, is it? -frightened- If so, I have secret weapons, you know. -pulls out halibut and frozen waffle-**

**Blazingstar of ThunderClan - Heehee! I hope so. I hope you guys aren't just reading still because you feel sorry for poor old Shadow and her unhinged little brain. That would be sad. XD**

**the lone geisha - Ooh, yes yes! You must try writing! Once you start, there's really no place to go but up! And writing fanfiction allows you to have a lot of really constructive criticism! Not to mention you can try out ideas in your fics to see if they'd work in books - not that I do that or anything. -shifty eyes-**

**anonymous - Wow! You sure know how to make a girl blush, don't you? -very happy-**

**Anyway, enough with the yahooing yahoos!**

**Onto the story!**

* * *

Looking unbearably smug, the Rogue flicked his tail to his cats, keeping them in check even though Declan could see slavering fangs and the glint of moonlight on unsheathed claws. A squirm of fear made his fur stand on end even before the Rogue spoke, his voice the haunting lilt of his nightmares—the ones infused with flames flickering behind a thick screen of smoke. The ones filled with a wheezy, stilted laugh that didn't belong to the Rogue or any other cat Declan had ever encountered. That dizzying cave—that black abyss that tunneled his thoughts into that orderly, blank, empty pattern that he'd used for the entirety of his captivity.

The one that made him forget Twist.

The Rogue didn't move for a moment, simply relishing the moment of the Sliders' complete surprise. "Hello, my friends," he greeted amicably, walking down the hill with loping steps that betrayed his arrogance. "Such a pleasure to see you all tonight. Viktor!" he called out, eyes fixing on where the gray tabby stood, mouth gaping, as if bolted to the ground. "How are you doing, old friend? How long has it been? Days? Seasons? Oh, right, right. It was right after you allowed me to be exiled when I was barely more than a kit, sent out into the cold winter night laced with slashes that were dealt by the only cat that I ever considered a mother." When Viktor remained silent, the Rogue added in a voice that was full of indulgent condescension, "So nice to see you again."

By now, he was at the base of the hill. With one flick of his tail, his cats—the ones who had frozen in place at the sight of their leader—ripped themselves away from the Sliders they were fighting and circled around him.

The Rogue, brushing past a few of them, stood at the forefront of the group, his eyes wandering lazily among the crowd. "Ah!" he said, his eyes lighting up. "Another of my friends, I see! Hello, Kent! It is good to see you are well—not that I can say the same for your friend, Gravel. Although," he went on, ignorant to Kent's furious outbreak of hissing, "I hear that he is well enough at the moment, cleaning out the dirt-places of my warriors. It is good that he finally found a task suitable to his intellect."

It was utterly silent now. The Rogue hadn't ceased his restless pacing, his eyes darting between cats. Sometimes, his gaze lingered, making the victim of his stare look away, pelt bristling. Eventually, he had made a full circuit, coming to stand in front of Declan. His eyes, already narrowed, grew to multicolored slits.

"Hello, Leo," he greeted him.

Declan didn't say a word. He didn't give away his hatred for this cat for a single twitch of his whiskers.

"Or not Leo," the Rogue corrected himself, putting his head to the side. At this close proximity, Declan could smell the harsh scent of crushed pine needles and fresh dirt on him: it must have been from where he lived on the cliffs, Declan wagered in a very distant corner of his mind. "You are Declan now, are you not." It wasn't a question.

Declan still didn't move.

The Rogue didn't move his eyes away from Declan as he addressed Twist, who had been standing just as still at Declan's side. "So nice to finally meet you, Twist. As you have probably guessed by now, I am the commander of the Claws. I have been positively dying to meet you. A pure-blooded mountain cat." Now he finally looked at her, something close to hunger in his eyes. "How I wish I was like you."

Twist couldn't hold back any longer. "You wouldn't last a heartbeat in the mountains, you foul bottom-feeder," she snarled deeply, her hackles raised. "You don't have the guts."

The Rogue laughed, the sound hearty and low as if genuine. His eyes remained cold. "I would not be judging one's guts if I was you, Twist," he said amicably. "Considering the way you were under _my_ command."

"That has nothing to do with anything!" Twist snapped. "You kidnapped me! Just like you kidnapped all those other cats! I've seen them, you moron! I'm not stupid. I know that you took them just like you took me!"

To Declan's shock, the Rogue rolled his eyes. "Please. I wish that you would not go around throwing names. I wish that we could be friends. You and I, we would have many things to share. You could teach me so much, Twist."

"I can _teach_ you the feel of my claws," Twist hissed, making sure her voice carried. "I won't ever join you. I'd die first! I'll fight as many of your Claws as I have to keeping the Sliders safe! These are innocent cats—not more pawns for you to use in your pathetic little game with Lucky. I won't stand for it a second longer!"

Declan watched her, amazed. _She is a marvel, _he thought.

The Rogue's amused expression was gone now. "I will only give you one chance," he growled, pitching his voice so low that Declan knew he meant the words only for her, even though the dead silence of the clearing made him completely audible. "Come with me. Come to the Claws. And I won't just leave your little friend here alone: I will leave the Sliders alone. Forever."

Declan felt his heart stop.

Before Twist could even say anything, Viktor was right behind her. With his fur standing on end, he looked huge—a fierce, snarling storm of wild gray fur and flashing fangs. "I don't think so," he hissed. "Twist isn't going anywhere. She's one of us."

The Rogue didn't spare him a single glance. His eyes fixed on Twist like a hawk watching a mouse. He licked his lips. "Come with me, Twist," he repeated. "I have many things to show you. You could be great, you know. I could _make_ you great. You could be my successor."

"Isn't that 'we can rule together' stuff only in kit stories?" Twist scoffed, lifting her chin. "You could promise me anything in the world and I would still say no. Not after everything you've done to these cats. Not after what you did to me or Declan."

Declan stepped forward, his head sunk low below his shoulders. "I think you've got your answer," he growled.

The Rogue looked disappointed. "I was not expecting you to put your own life before the entirety of the Sliders, Twist. Clearly I am not the only one who values self-preservation above all else."

"It's not self-preservation," Twist snapped. "It's doing what's right. Even if I go with you now, how would I know you wouldn't come straight back here and attack again?"

"Please," the Rogue scoffed. "Why would I waste my energy on mice when I could be fighting real cats?"

His words made a quick rumble of growls rise from the crowd, who had fallen into a line identical to how the Claws were standing up on the hill.

Twist stepped back. "I won't go with you," she said, making sure her voice was clear. "Not ever."

Declan had never been prouder of her.

The Rogue's eyes flashed. Taking one step backwards, he added, "You will be sorry that you chose to stay, Twist. You could have been such a good asset to my collection of mountain cats."

Despite her best efforts, Declan saw that the Rogue's words had caught her attention. "I already know about that. You brainwashed them."

"I have caught many mountain cats before I acquired you. Some of them were assimilated into the ranks. Some were broken too badly beyond repair."

"Some of them escaped," Declan put in, watching the Rogue's eyes spark with fury.

The Rogue growled, "That was a singular case. I have made sure that the one who allowed her to escape was punished." He pushed himself away from them, seemingly with effort. Bounding halfway up the hill, he turned to face the Sliders, standing sidelong. "I do not wish harm to the Sliders. I believe we can live together in peace. However, peace will not happen if there are two leaders. So take your pick. You can either give Lucky up to me—I will take care of him the way he would do for me—or you can fight. It is truly up to you. My cats will not attack unless I give the order."

"Yeah, that stopped Sorrow from coming here, didn't it?" The voice, drawling and sarcastic, was instantly recognizable. Declan looked over the tops of the heads closest to him to see Snit drag himself to the front of the line, his pelt spattered with blood that seemed mostly his own. One ear was torn and his eye was half-closed against a scratch that ran from his forehead to his chin, but he was alive. Declan heard Twist let out an audible sigh of relief.

The Rogue's eyes widened, farther than they had the entire time he had been speaking. So wide that Declan could see the whites all the way around both the icy-blue and near-black amber irises. They looked even more contrasting against the sharp whites of his eyes. "_Snit_," he hissed.

And to his credit, Snit didn't look even the slightest bit afraid. He stopped just ahead of the line, his eyes fixed contemptuously on the cat that had once been his master. "Yeah, it's me," Snit said, trying to sound offhand even as his eyes flashed. "I can tell you're surprised."

"You are… on their…side?" His words were so incoherent with fury that he was almost unintelligible.

Snit's eyes glinted. "Always have been," he said loftily.

That broke something in the Rogue. With a scream that was more animalistic fury than the reason he so carefully had built into him, he flew at Snit, bowling him right off his paws and onto his back. With bared teeth, he pulled back, exchanging blows with the younger cat, who had sank his claws deeply into the Rogue's pelt and would not let go.

For a moment, the Claws were confused, watching their leader wrestle back and forth with the cat they had known for seasons as the Rogue's main confidante.

Then Sorrow, her eyes lit with a delight stemming from pure bloodlust, yowled, "_Attack!"_

"Attack!" Viktor echoed, his raw-throated shriek deafening Declan for a moment Viktor he took off, paws barely ghosting the ground as he tore his way up the hill, slamming so hard into the opposing cat that they tumbled over and over, a screaming whirlwind of fur and teeth and claws.

Declan, exchanging a quick look with Twist, raced off after him.

The first cat he encountered was a long-limbed tabby guard. Declan ducked his head and hit the cat right in the chest, feeling the air crushed out of his lungs. Moving with the motion of the blow, Declan dug his claws into the wiry grass underpaw, using it to give him leverage as he swung the cat around, sending him spinning down the hill.

Claws sliced into Declan's shoulder as he watched, making him whirled around, teeth bared for fighting. It was a guard he recognized now—the golden-furred tom named Kaltag.

"Why would you do this to us, Leo?" Kaltag demanded, lunging again but missing. "You betrayed all of us!"

Declan feinted to the side, raking his claws up Kaltag's chest, though without enough force to break the skin beneath the thick fur. "I was forced to betray the Sliders," he snarled, pounding the ground with his paws, attempting to shake Kaltag's confidence. "I was never one of you!"

Kaltag, through bared teeth, hissed, "You were. You were in the same group as I was. I remember you."

"I grew out of my smoke treatment," Declan replied coldly, crouching down. His eyes fixed on Kaltag's yellow ones, making sure the tom made no move to attack.

But curiously, Kaltag seemed disconcerted, his head tipping just slightly from side to side. "Smoke treatment?" he echoed, his paws making short, mincing steps in his agitation.

"Don't pretend you don't know! You and the rest of the Claws do it to rebellious cats that don't want to join!"

"Smoke treatment…" Kaltag didn't sound like he was listening. He was still looking confused, out-of-it. His eyes flicked across the ground as if he saw something there, blinking quickly. All thoughts of fighting had seemed to have left him.

Declan didn't trust him for a second.

Kaltag's eyes raised to Declan's face, his mouth hanging half-open as if in surprise. "I remember smoke. I remember smelling it. Something…sweet with it. A sweet smell. And flickering lights." Now his eyes widened, not as terrifyingly or unnaturally wide as the Rogue's had, but still significantly. "Stars," he whispered. "I _remember_ it. I remember…life here. In this place. I hunted on this hill when I was a kit."

Declan watched him suspiciously, though the dawning comprehension on his face was almost convincing. Just behind Kaltag's confused face, Declan could see cats fighting, in pairs and alone, claws gleaming in the half-light. He could hear the hisses and ferocious yowls of fighting, the screams of cats in pain and full-throated fury, the ripping of fur and grass as balance was found with claws and hind paws.

Kaltag moved suddenly, a flinch, as if a bee had stung him. Declan started too, but Kaltag moved forward as if in a daze, padding right up close to Declan, so close that Declan took several steps backwards. "I…I think I was a Slider," he choked out, breathing heavily. The blood dripped down from his forehead and over his lips unimpeded as he stared desperately at Declan, as if looking for an answer on his confused face.

Declan didn't know what to say to that. "I don't believe you."

"No!" Kaltag cried. He paced back and forth, just as restlessly as the Rogue had, though confusion was in every line of his body. "I didn't ever think of it before. I had dreams of something else, you know. When I was a guard in the Claws, I dreamed of running down hills and through grass, of hunting in forests with maple trees. But you know what, Leo? Declan? Whatever your name is now? Now that I think of it, I've never seen a maple tree. Not in my entire life." He paused then, the frown heavily etched into his face. "Until now. Until you said those words just now. Smoke treatment." His voice was a raspy whisper. "Smoke treatment. They did that to me. The master. The old cat with all those wounds…"

"Wait." And now something was triggered within Declan's own memory. In that hazy, smoky corner of his brain filled with an inexorably powerful voice and the sweet cloying scent of herbs, he remembered something else. A cat's silhouette through the smoke. The rasp of flesh on rock. "You know that cat?"

Kaltag was moaning under his breath now, his tail making quick lashes back and forth. "I'm not a Claw," he was saying, endlessly. "A Slider. I'm a Slider. Oh, stars."

"Kaltag," Declan said, sharply even though he regretted the fear on the guard's face. "I need you to tell me about the cat with all the wounds."

Shaking his head, Kaltag stuttered, "I don't know anything about him. I saw him, once. Right after I…I don't even know. My first memory of being with the Claws was seeing the Rogue for the first time. We were in a cave filled with…something. The walls were shiny somehow, even though it was night. I could smell smoke. He told me that I had been selected for serving the Claws. I had heard about the Claws—somehow I thought they were the best things in the forest. I had forgotten about the Sliders, my family." He groaned again, shaking his head sharply. "Another cat was with me. A she-cat. Ruby. My friend. She's a queen for the Claws now. I know that. I've seen her. She was kidnapped, too."

_Ruby. _The name was unfamiliar to him. "But the cat with the wounds?" he pressed. The battle was closing in on all sides: the only reason it hadn't reached them yet was pure luck. Declan had somehow managed to back Kaltag up into a shallow dip in the ground, shading them with long, feathery tendrils of grass. Clumps of dirt, a steady stream of sand, and the thundering of paws overhead told him that the fight was about to be brought into this small places—they needed to hurry.

Kaltag whimpered, "It was awful. I caught a glimpse of him as I left. He was up in a den at the top of the cave. A little cleft in the rock. I saw his face. No ears, one eye, a gash of a mouth. His pelt was tattered but I thought it could have once been dark fur. Maybe brown. I didn't see him stand but I could tell something was wrong with his legs." He opened his eyes. "I don't know why but I knew I wasn't supposed to see him. No cat knows about him but a few, the inner guard. I heard them talking about him before. He's something incredibly special to the mast—to the Rogue."

Declan didn't say anything about Kaltag's sudden correction—if anything, that proved that he could be trusted. "Something special? Like a brother?" Could it be possible that Lucky and the Rogue could share another sibling?

Kaltag shook his head. "I don't know. I was only outer guard. You would have to ask someone on the inside." Then he stopped himself, shaking his fur all out as if he was dirty. "Where's Lucky? Why isn't he here?"

"Lucky won't be joining us." That was Twist, her sardonic voice clearly masking some kind of pain. Declan turned to see her shuffle in next to him, her soft fur brushing against his flank.

Immediately, he felt himself release a breath he didn't know he was holding. She was safe.

"Who are you?" Twist demanded, her claws unsheathed. Her nostrils flared. "You smell like a Claw."

"Kaltag," Declan told her. "He's like me."

Twist's ears flicked. "A cat who doesn't look before he runs into battle?" she asked dryly. "Give some warning before you go charging off next time."

Declan laughed once under his breath. "A Slider-turned-Claw. He got brainwashed, too."

Twist's eyes widened. She turned to Kaltag, the suspicion now gone from her yellow eyes. "And you're…awake now?"

Slowly, Kaltag nodded. "I'm…I'm not going back to them. The Claws. I'll fight on your side."

Twist bared her teeth in some kind of fierce approval. "Excellent."

Declan asked, "Are there more of us? Captured Sliders?"

Kaltag's ears flattened. "Probably. I don't know of any others besides myself and Ruby."

"Ruby!" Twist echoed, shocked. "I know her! You're telling me she's a Slider, too?"

"I don't think she was ever smoke-treated, though." Kaltag put his head to the side, closing his eyes. "I can't remember. I just…can't."

Declan gently pressed his nose against the tom's shoulder. "You've done enough, Kaltag."

"Declan, we need to get back to the fight." Twist had skittered back out of the alcove and was looking up the hill. Judging by the expression on her face, the fight wasn't going well.

Kaltag, setting his jaw, nodded once to Declan. His golden fur flashed like a sunbeam as he leapt into the fray, disappearing between the heaving bodies.

Declan watched him, sighing heavily. "This is worse than I thought."

Twist, now looking thoughtful, said, "I wonder if there's a way to reverse it."

"It seems that mentioning it does the trick. All I had to do was bring his attention to it and he stopped."

"But…I don't know. I've met Ruby before. She didn't seem…like you two." She jerked her chin to motion to the disappeared Kaltag. "She was normal. A totally normal cat." She turned to Declan, something close to revulsion in her eyes. "What if she chose to be a Claw?"

Declan sighed again. "I don't know." His head was aching with a slow, beating pulse. In the midst of the ache, he could feel that dull smoky edge that seemed to always be lurking just out of his reach, the one that he now knew came from the smoke treatment. _I wonder if I'll ever be free of what the Rogue has done to me, _he thought, with a curious roll in his belly.

Twist leaned into him as if she was reading his mind. She didn't say anything, just pressed her cheek into his shoulder fur. He could feel her solid warmth, the only truth he knew he could absolutely trust in the world, and was comforted.

A single moment of peace on a bloodstained battlefield.

Then a cat came hurtling from above the rise of earth, claws extending, and slammed into Declan's side, knocking the breath from him as he was crushed beneath heavy paws.

"We don't like traitors," the cat breathed into his ear, his breath strong and foul, stinking of old blood. "Your pelt is mine." Twisting around, Declan could see the outline of tattered ears, behind which the moon's face was half-obscured by clouds. A low boom of thunder shook the air.

The cat was ripped away from Declan by strong claws. Momentarily amazed at the thought of Twist possessing such strength, he flipped back around until his paws were beneath him and set to attack.

Kent and Marco, returned again, were double-teaming the cat. "We've got this," Marco growled, sinking his front claws into the Claw guard with merciless accuracy. "Go! Snit needs you!"

Twist gasped. She had been knocked off her paws by the cat's sudden attack too, only just regaining her balance. "I forgot about him," she muttered, flashing a look up at Declan. "We're going, right?"

Declan nodded once to Marco and Kent, who were now too busy to notice, and they were off.

By the time they were halfway across the hill, rain began to come down. It ghosted to the ground, a silvery shimmer through which flashed grays and browns and blacks of pelts. The ground, formerly stable ground, turned wet and loose underfoot, the clinging mud plastering Declan's throat and chest, coating his paws in a thick layer of muck.

Twist, darted through the battle like a jay, called to him, "We need to find a way to stop this."

"I know," Declan said, repeating himself in a louder voice when thunder cracked again. "But I don't know how!"

"We need to find a _way _how," Twist said, dipping beneath a pair of wrestling toms. She emerged, a tuft of fur missing from her shoulder and an annoyed expression on her face. Scooting closer to him, ducking beneath a heavy branch that he leapt over, she added, "We need Lucky."

"Lucky!" Declan was shocked. "Why would you want him? He can't even defend himself!"

"He wanted to fight in the beginning. It's not him, Declan—it's Wisp. She's the one who's been holding him back. She's the one who made the Rogue the way he is. It's all her! Maybe she didn't mean it," she growled, clearly not believing her own words, "but she did it. It's her fault. And she needs to face it and help to stop this. Cats are going to get killed if we don't do anything!"

Declan couldn't help but be amazed. _When I first met her, she didn't give two mousetails about anyone. And now look at her. Looking for a way to end a battle between enemies she didn't even know until a few moon cycles ago. She's a marvel. _

"And besides," she went on, clearly embarrassed by her back-set ears. "I can't just run away from a fight. I might be small, but I was trained by the mountain cats." She turned mischievously to Declan. "You know, mountain cats have clearly superior intellect after all. According to the Rogue anyway."

The Rogue. The entire run, Declan hadn't seen even a trace of the Claws' leader. He couldn't be difficult to miss—he was as large as Lucky and twice as strong—but he seemed to have effectively made himself scarce.

Unless he was still fighting Snit.

They couldn't find Snit on the hillside. They stopped for a quick breather behind a rock jutting from the ground. Declan, pressing his shoulder against it, rain trickling down between his ears, poked his head from around the side of the rock.

He saw Viktor slicing neatly at two Claws, his mate Kite at his side fighting just as powerfully. What she lacked in size she clearly made up with ferocity, as if her maternal instincts had been weaponized into some kind of furious tangle of claws and teeth. Ink and his brothers were wrestling further away with a cluster of guards; Ink's fur, sodden with mud, looked nearly indistinguishable from the guard he was fighting. Streaking past at a furious pace went Iggy, the scrawny tom's paws pummeling the ground so quickly that Declan almost couldn't see them moving, with a whole cluster of guards at his back. At the top of the hill, Iggy whirled, claws extended, and launched himself off the higher ground onto his captors, hitting one in the chest so hard they both tumbled down the hill in a screaming snarl of fur.

The Sliders were holding their own despite all difficulties. The thought filled Declan with a warm bubble of pride as he watched, his shoulders moving smoothly under his pelt, his claws itching to fight again. With a strange, silent thanks to Leo, Declan knew he could fight well enough to protect what he had. For all the tom's faults and insults and the terrible, stomach-twisting guilt Declan felt when he thought about him, he owed his skill to the fat, old tom.

_Doesn't mean I had to have liked him, _Declan thought rather miserably, that same pang of sickening shame echoing through his chest. Not a day would pass for the rest of his life, he reflected, without him wishing to go back and redo those moments. He closed his eyes, the fire flickering behind his eyelids.

With a lurching jolt, the ground below his paws seemed to give way, opening down into a yawning cavern. Declan looked into the darkness, fear making bile rise in his throat and his fur stand on end, and he thought: _This is the fear that Twist feels. _

Sickly yellow eyes gleamed at him from the shadows.

"Declan!"

Someone pushed his shoulder and his eyes snapped open. He was still in the same place, his paws in the exact same position. Rain was still falling, heavily now, into his eyes. He blinked. "What happened?"

Twist, looking close to desperate, was trembling at his side. "W-what happened? You got all quiet and then you were shaking…" Then she paused, a thoughtful look coming across her face. "It's what he did to you, isn't it?"

Declan, throat dry, nodded. "It was different this time," he panted, leaning heavily against the rock until he slid to the ground; Twist sat next to him, keeping one paw placed over his, as if to keep him in the present. "I saw…eyes. Yellow eyes."

Something flickered across Twist's expression, too swiftly for him to understand it. "The Rogue has marked eyes. Neither of them are yellow."

"I know." He was still shaking all over, the rain seeping into his pelt not helping in the least. He heaved himself to his paws, shaking off the clinging water. "I don't understand. I don't remember…" Eyes closing tightly, he shook his head. "I don't remember eyes. All I remember is smoke. And fire. And…a voice."

"A voice?"

"It told me…things." He shook his head again. "It's nothing, really. I have it all under control." It was a lie but a convincing one. Twist didn't look suspecting at all. "We need to find Snit."

They rushed down the hill, managed to scoop out a wide trail around the fight. Declan's pelt was laced with scratches that stretched and pulled as he run; he felt sticky blood dripping just under his chin and over one eye but thankfully they had clotted.

At the base of the hill beneath a hazel bush, a short group of Sliders had gathered: Pop and Lenny, Yarrow, Scotty—

But no sign of Snit.

Audrey flew in front of the four toms, her fur on end, as she heard them approach. Her teeth were bared, a ferocious hiss rising from her throat, before she noticed it was them. "Oh, thank the stars," she breathed, her hackles smoothing back down. "You're alive."

Declan felt a blow to his stomach. "Alive? Does that mean that…?"

The question hung unanswered in the turbulent air.

Audrey turned her face away. "The Rogue got Snit…really badly. I…I don't know if he's going to—" Her voice stopped suddenly before her voice could crack. She cleared her throat and turned back to them, all business; it was almost believable if not for the barely-contained agony in her green eyes. "He's been asking for you two. He wants to speak with you."

"You can go, Audrey," Pop said gently. His brother Lenny leaned into Audrey's side, gently nuzzling her head, but she stepped back.

"No, I'm staying with him." Audrey whirled around and went back inside the shelter of the bushes. Exchanging a glance with Twist, Declan followed her.

Inside, the den stank of blood and fear.

Audrey strode across the empty space to where Snit was laying under a low branch, the thick leaves effectively keeping the rain out. She dragged her tongue across his forehead, cleaning the grit there, matted with blood. Her eyes were focused on nothing.

"Well," Snit said, and Declan leapt in surprise at the weakness in his raspy voice. "There's no need to look like you're attending a funeral, you know. I'm not dead yet."

Declan swallowed hard. Snit's black and white fur was torn and ragged, hanging off in clumps. Beneath his pelt, Declan could see a thatch of yellow-green leaves plastered to his belly with cobwebs.

Twist pressed forward first, then hung back just before she reached him. Snit looked up at her, his eyes swimming hazily.

"You know," he said. "You look just like a cat I knew once. Her name was Spirit."

Twist recoiled so strongly that Declan jumped again. "Th-that's my mother's name," Twist whispered raggedly, her entire body shaking.

Snit didn't seem surprised. "A mountain cat. My mast—the Rogue—captured her somehow. She was coming down from the mountains." He drew in a long, weighty breath then. "I think… Actually, I know I'm dying. Don't give me those sad looks," he snapped, his eyes darting from Declan to Twist to Audrey, lingering there. He shut his eyes. "Look, I did my part. I found out everything that…that needed to be figured out. I had a good life. I don't have any regrets."

Twist was sitting very still next to Declan. He could feel her breathing, quick and shallow, like a trapped bird. He leaned into her, trying to console her, even though his own heart felt frozen like a dead thing in his chest.

Snit readjusted himself, wincing as he tugged at where the leaves kept his lifeblood in. "Look. I haven't been completely honest with either of you. Not completely. Yes, Declan, I know you're probably angry with me for sending you to the Claws—"

"What?" Audrey gasped.

"—but I did it because I knew, together, you and Twist could finish this all off." Snit didn't seem to hear Audrey. "And you did."

"We didn't," Twist said, her voice low and ragged. "Everything I did just made things _worse._"

Snit shook his head, just a single twitch was all he could manage. "No. You were the one for the job, Twist. A mountain cat. My former master's obsession. You were perfect." His eyes closed then, very slowly.

Audrey gently reached out a paw. "Snit…?"

With his usual sense of tact, Snit laughed once—a hard sound with no humor in it. His eyes flicked open, fixing on Audrey. "I told you, I'm not dead yet! You can save your grieving until I'm actually dead! You'll have plenty of time to be sad then! Right now, we need to plan things. I'm not going to be around to show these two how to get to the cliffs!"

"The cliffs!" Declan echoed. "Where the Rogue lives?"

Snit laid his head back down on the ground heavily. The moonlight was just enough to steal silvery across his open eyes, half-lidded with the effort of clinging to life. "The cliffs are a maze to anyone who doesn't know how to get to the center. There's a trick to help us get to the Rogue without anyone else knowing."

"Why would we need to go there?" Twist asked in a hoarse voice. "The Rogue is here."

Snit's eyes narrowed even further. "The Rogue's not the one calling the shots. There's another cat guiding him."

Declan felt his heart stop in his chest.

"A-another cat?" Twist looked similarly stunned. "What…what do—"

"You know how Lucky has Wisp?" Snit's voice was uneven, rising and falling with a breathless rapidity that made Declan have to lean forward to catch every word. "Well, the Rogue has a cat like that. Not a normal one—a mountain cat. The Rogue rescued him when he first went to the mountains." Snit had to take a breath then, to breathe deeply several times. "I've only ever seen him once, and that was by accident. My master spoke often to me of him, though. That cat. He's the one who does all of the smoke treatments. He's the one who brainwashed you, Declan."

Declan, mind racing, immediately asked, "Does he have yellow eyes?"

Snit, eyes still shining in the moonlight, inclined his head just so slightly.

So he existed after all. Declan felt a surge of relief that the cat was not simply a figment of his imagination—now that he knew he was real, he could be stopped. _Killed,_ a voice in the back of his mind whispered. He shivered.

"A mountain cat," Twist whispered, some kind of dawning horror on her face. "Do you know what his name is?"

Snit closed his eyes. "Braiser. I've heard it mentioned enough."

Immediately, Twist stiffened. In a completely mechanical, dead voice, she said, "Are you certain?"

"Absolutely."

Twist nodded. "Okay. How do you get inside the cliffs?"

Audrey, who was standing hovering over Snit, said softly, "Maybe this isn't the time for—"

"There is no more time!" Snit hissed. "When you get to the cliffs, you need to look on the walls. We had a code for it, so we would know and no one else would—even the other Claws. On the wall, just above the ground, you'll see a row of three scratches. Just follow the scratches all the way to the center. Braiser is there now. He goes there any time there's a threat of danger." He moved his head then, tucking his chin close to his chest, his eyes falling closed again. Just a slit of color remained to show that he was even still awake. "I know about everything. The Rogue knows that, too. That's why he tried to shut me up. But now…now you know everything, too. Twist, Declan. I need you to do this for me. I need you to kill that cat. Braiser. Nothing will stop if he's still alive. He won't give up trying to kill every cat that gets in his and the Rogue's way."

"And what about the Rogue?" Twist asked, her voice sounding strangled. Declan shot her a quick look but she turned her face away from him just enough to hide her expression.

Snit was breathing heavily again, his flanks rising and falling rapidly. He didn't have much time left. But he opened his eyes, shining with more strength than Declan had seen in the entire night. "I might be weaker than he is, but I know how he fights. My _master_ didn't get away from our fight unscathed." His voice was full of venom. "I hope he dies in agony."

Audrey reached down and pressed her muzzle to his and now he accepted her affection, a purr rising from his weak throat. "Don't," she murmured.

Snit's half-closed eyes drifted to the side, not fixed on anything. "I wish I could have lived just long enough to see the look on the Rogue's face when he loses."

Audrey didn't say anything. Her eyes clenched closed, she just pushed closer to Snit, her tail entwining with his.

Declan wanted to leave. He knew this was a private moment for the two of them to share, but his legs wouldn't work. He just stared at Snit, looking so broken on the ground. Moments before he had been a strong capable cat. Now he was on the verge of death.

_This is what war is, _he thought.

"You can go now," Snit said, his voice unsteady. "There's no point to stand around and watch. You're wasting valuable time!"

Twist was the one to break first. She padded up to Snit, looking down at him with that same emotionless look. Then she bent her head, touching her nose to his for the briefest of moments. "Goodbye, Snit." Then she stepped back and left the den without another word, Snit's eyes following her, his eyes unfathomable.

Declan felt his throat tighten, as if there was something caught in it. "T-thank you, Snit." He didn't want to go any closer; the smell of blood was sickening, in his nostrils, blinding him. The thought that Snit was dying was unbearable.

_It all could have been avoided so easily._

"Declan." Snit's voice snapped him back to reality.

"Y-yes?"

Snit's eyes watched him carefully for a moment before he said, "Watch out for Twist. She's headstrong and stubborn and kind of stupid sometimes, but she's a good cat. She's got a good heart. You need to make sure that good heart doesn't become rotted like mine did. Keep her safe."

"I will," Declan promised, his voice barely above a whisper. The rain was gently beating on the leaves above his head. "Good luck, Snit."

Snit scoffed, turning his head once again into a more comfortable position. "I'm not the one who's going to need luck, Declan."

Before Declan left the den, he saw Snit murmuring to Audrey, his expression so soft. Heart squeezing once, painfully, Declan ducked out of the den and back into the rain.

Twist was already waiting for him, impatiently.

Declan said, "You know the cat he was talking about." It wasn't a question.

Twist's head sunk below her shoulders. "Braiser is my father." As soon as the words were out, she took off up the side of the hill, heading to where the Claws had met for their pre-battle plans not so long ago. She was almost invisible, her sodden pelt almost black in the darkness, but Declan remained standing by the hazel bush, heart and head aching.

_Her father? _The cat that was behind the evil of the Claws, the one who was directing the Rogue, the one whose fury had been the life force of the war between the Sliders and the Claws…was Twist's father? The he had never heard a word about before?

Why did all of this have to happen? Why couldn't things have remained simple? No one would have died. Everyone could have been together. All for peace. But everything here was all for lies and treachery, for deceit and hate. It was a foul, corroded world the Claws and Sliders lived. Nothing was ever going to change for them.

Declan shook himself, tossing the thoughts to the back of his mind. The first steps onto the soaked, wiry grass drew him back to reality, to the one where he had to protect Twist or die trying; she was already halfway up the hill, waiting for him.

Declan raised his eyes to her, feeling the tiniest bubble of hope form in his chest. In her eyes, he could see the strength that he would need to get through this—the strength to get both of them through this. Twist could do it. He knew it. She was tough and strong and brave.

The question was: could he do it?

Just behind Twist's head, he saw something at the top of the hill—a flash of pale eyes and silvery fur. Sorrow.

She saw him. Her eyes fixed on him with a stare that lacked malice, all coolness. Slowly, she cocked her head to one side, tail curling over her back.

They reached her within heartbeats, standing side-by-side as they faced her down.

Sorrow was alone, standing in the middle of the wet path. Her fur, formerly so silky and beautiful, stuck to her skin like a bedraggled rat's pelt. Her ears, flattened against her head, looked tiny in comparison to her narrow head. Her eyes gleamed, sparking two different colors.

No one said a word. Declan just glared at her, mustering up all the fury he could. This cat was the reason their lives were in danger. This cat was the reason Twist was captured, that he was forced to work for the Claws, that he couldn't remember who he used to be before the smoke sunk into his mind. This was the cat who had caused Snit's death.

They looked at each other for what felt like eternity. Water dripped down onto Declan's ears, catching and sliding down his whiskers, but he didn't budge a kitten-step.

Sorrow watched him just as sharply, her flanks heaving with the strength of her panting. Her head was far below her shoulders, casting her sharply-angled faced into shadow.

With the slowest of steps, she moved out of the way. Pausing on the side of the pathway, she nodded, her eyes keeping that steady stare on them. Her hackles smoothed. Her ears flicked up. But those eyes still remained on him. Challenging.

Declan was the first to move. He extended one paw at a time, back arched, ready to fight. But Sorrow didn't move at all. Declan kept facing her, turning his body as he went, making sure his eyes remained on her the entire time, his body between Sorrow and Twist.

But Sorrow remained motionless.

Declan kept his eyes on her until she was plunged into shadow, her marked eyes glowing greenish in the darkness for a split-second before they too vanished.

Declan and Twist fled into the protection of the forest, leaving Sorrow on the path behind them.

* * *

**Daaaaaaaaah! And we come yet again to another end of another chapter. But this time, just for you guys, I didn't leave it on a cliffe. YOU'RE WELCOME.**

**Now I'm gonna go to bed. Tomorrow I have to drive up to college and sign my lease and then take my dogs to the vet. Sigh. Not going to be a very productive day for writing, but really, this has been my only really good productive writing day anyway. **

**This is just a fun little kitty story I do on the side, 'cause most of my stuff that I work on now is original novels and whatever. So I'm kind of sorta maybe testing out a few things with you guys, seeing if you like them and stuff, so don't be afraid to say exactly what you mean - if you like something or want it to die by fire or whatever. I promise you won't hurt my feelings. XD**

**Anyway, sleep. Right.**

**Tootles!**

**You know what to do.**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	27. Chapter 27

**Wheeeeew. Been awhile!**

**I just finished reading Maggie Steifvater's FOREVER. Man, if you want a beautifully written romance story plus werewolves, this is for you. Hands down, the best book I read this year. So far. XD**

**LegendaryHero IV - First off, when did you become the fourth? XD Dude, you gotta draw out the tension! And Snit was far too melodramatic to go easily! Drama queens gotta drama queen it up! I tried to update soon, but the books, man...they just called to me. I had to answer the call of the books. **

**LarkspiritOfForestClan - I know. Some of the goodies - er, kind-of-mean-anti-heros I suppose - have to go. It was almost Declan in his place! XD**

**artemis7337 - Dude, I always forget what I say, too. Right now, I have the reviews for the past chapter open in another window so I can answer them properly. XD I really tried hard on the action last chapter! It seems most of my scenes devolve from action to diplomatic conversation. So I tried to keep a little fur-shredding. XD Not _exactly _mercilessly - I did feel a little bad. A little. I did like that little bugger. :(**

**Blazingstar of ThunderClan - Heehee~! I'm glad you liked it! This chapter's not very long, I have to say. About 5K. But hopefully I can get the next one cranking soon. =3**

**theDiabolical - Yeah, it's ending soon. :( I might do a sequel, I guess, if you guys want me to. I'd need to come up with a hint of a plot first, though. I'm trying hard to tie all the loose ends together with this one first. XD**

**Tangleflame - Nope! I didn't mention her mother but in passing. I've left a few clues littered around but that'll all be resolved soon. :D**

**Amazingly Awesome Person - Hee! I'm glad that you like him so much! I personally find him really hilarious to write from. He thinks he's so big and tough and he's not even calling the shots! And I did love Snit so. I was actually going through my old failed original stories the other day and Snit and Audrey existed in another form without me even meaning it, like four years ago. They were a pair of best friends always at odds with the side-effect of being werewolves. Times change. XD**

**Crowstorm - Hahahaha. Spirit is definitely not Wisp. I imagine her much prettier and much less...evilish. Not that Wisp is evil - I don't think that really any of my cats are full-and-full evil, shades of gray and all that, but she's...conniving. That's the word I'm looking for. XD**

**Da Mao - And what a story that is! And within this chapter, too! Enjoy!**

**Whew. Okay.**

**Enough with the gibby-gabby!**

**Onto the story~!**

* * *

The woods were thick with water and shadows.

Twist wasn't afraid of them as her paws pounded into the wet ground, propelling her forward so quickly that she half-thought she would fall at any heartbeat—not with Declan beside her. His red-brown fur, though plastered to his flanks so thoroughly that she could count his ribs, glowed like a low flame in the darkness. His presence alone was enough to stave back the fear that, under normal circumstances, would have eaten her alive.

The forest was so silent.

Twist could feel the tension between herself and Declan, solidifying in the air like ice. Any moment it would fracture. Her heart squeezed in her chest in shivery apprehension.

Leaping over a log, its moss-green sides slicked flat with rainwater, Declan spoke for the first time: "The leader of the Claws is your father." It was not a question.

Twist squirmed beneath the log, her belly scraping the ground, and pulled herself free, her white chest fur dark with mud. She took off running again, not slowing down even though she could feel his eyes on her. "Yes," she agreed.

"How is that possible? Your father…isn't he in the mountains with your gang?"

Twist squeezed her eyes shut. "No."

"Twist, talk to me. Tell me what's happening." His voice was full of desperation. Skidding to a stop, he curled himself back, blocking her way. His eyes were very green against his soaked face.

Twist trotted to a slow stop, halting several paces away from him. She looked at him, wet and miserable, and said, "What do you want me to say, Declan?"

"I need to know what's going on in your head. You're closed off again, just like when we first met." When she looked away sharply, eyes on the ground, he went on with, "Don't do this. Don't hide yourself from me, Twist. Not from me."

In the darkest corner of her heart, Twist knew this day had to come. This was the moment she had been fearing, ever since she had spoken the horrible words: _Braiser is my father._

In the silence, the storm raged on. Thunder boomed distantly, echoing through the trees, shaking free fat, clinging drops of rain that fell to the ground with dull splashes. One hit Twist's ear, making it twitch without her permission, and then as if that was the final blow, the last strain on her frayed sense of closed-in pride, the words fell from her mouth, quick and uneven.

"When I was a kit, my mother was framed for the death of my father. He was the leader of our gang at the time—before Stripes. He asked me if I wanted to be like him and I said no. He punished me. He picked me up and swung me out over a crevice in the mountain—the highest at the edges of our territory. My mother rescued me and he attacked her for it. He…he wasn't going to kill her. He wanted to kill _me. _She was hurt, he was hurting her, and I…I couldn't stand the thought of that, of her dying, so I…I…" She narrowed her eyes, a lump rising hard in her throat, and fixed her gaze unwaveringly on Declan's white toes, noticing that the rain had darkened his fur enough for the light bands of color on his legs to be nearly invisible against his red fur. "I pushed him off the cliff. He fell down into the darkness, swallowed up, like…like he had drowned in the shadows. I killed him. I thought I had. I was sure I had. But I didn't. He's still alive. He's still hunting cats down, still feeding his hatred. Still…there."

Declan hadn't said a word. From the pattering of rain falling, which had only strengthened in the time she had been speaking, she could hardly distinguish he was there at all except for his scent: it was like he wasn't even breathing.

"And I'm not sorry I did it," Twist felt the need to add. "I would do it again. Because of him, my gang was starving, fearful, alone. I thought I had ended it." She swallowed hard. "But I only made things worse."

The silence returned. Twist didn't move her eyes from Declan's paws and he still didn't say anything. Was he judging her right now? Wondering why he put up with her for so long? She had tried to tell him, when they first met, that she was cold and heartless, an unrepentant father-killer. She had tried to tell him. It wasn't her fault that he didn't listen, that he stuck close to her even when she tried to push him away. She wanted to push him away still, anything to get away from this suffocating silence.

What could be going through his mind right now?

Twist closed her eyes as she heard him step forward. His muzzle gently pressed between her eyes, his breath gusting softly in her face. Then he moved, sliding his nose down her cheek, her chin, until they were forehead-to-forehead and Declan said, "Look at me."

Twist opened her eyes.

Declan's eyes were brighter than she'd ever seen them. "Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?" Her voice was barely audible over the sound of her rain and her wildly-beating heart.

An anguished look entered his eyes like a rolling fog. "For making me feel like less of a monster."

Her breath caught in her chest.

Without moving away, he said, "My broth—My housefolk's other cat, Leo. I…I caused his death. I told you I was a pet. That was true. I was one. I set our house on fire just before I met you. He died in that fire." His eyes closed, and Twist could feel him trembling. "For a long time, I thought that I would never be able to move past the…the overwhelming guilt I felt. But it wasn't for Leo. It was for my housefolk, because they didn't know what happened to me or to Leo. I ran away, into the woods. I didn't ever come back after I saw…what I had done."

He made a little pained intake of breath. "I killed Leo, Twist. I killed him. And for seasons and seasons, I didn't _feel_…anything about it. I didn't feel guilty for my part in his death. I thought it meant that I was…I don't know. I thought I must be crazy, to do that and not feel bad that he was dead. I was more upset that it had been me that killed him than the fact that he was dead." His voice dropped so that he was barely audible. "I was so relieved that he was gone, Twist. I wanted him gone so badly. But not like that. Not like that."

Twist felt like her insides were being squeezed tightly. _Declan is the same as me, _she realized. _We're the same. We both brought about the death of another cat. Different reasons. But the same. _"Why did you thank me for that?" she whispered, opening her eyes hesitantly, afraid of what she might see in his eyes.

But Declan had something deep in his expression that she couldn't identify. "You're just…so good, Twist. And if you made the same—I mean, if you did the same thing that I did…I can't be a monster. You could never have killed a cat in cold blood. I wish I could say the same thing about me."

"You didn't mean to kill him."

"No. But I still did."

Twist pushed her nose into his neck fur, feeling his head drop down onto her shoulder. Declan buried his face in her soaked fur, his nose brushing her chilled skin beneath her pelt, and his breathing was uneven, catching when he breathed in.

"Don't," she begged him. "Declan, please—"

"Please what?"

But she didn't know. She hated this agony that was making him tremble like a newborn kit. She hated that she could not feel the same guilt, the same anguish, as he could. Her heart was not warm enough to accept that she had acted wrongly. She was not yet warm enough to come to terms with the fact that she had meant to kill her father, her conviction not questionable like Declan's, who had never meant to do murder.

She had meant to kill Braiser.

She had failed to kill Braiser.

Did that make her any less cold-blooded than if she had succeeded?

After several long moments, Declan pulled away. Keeping his eyes on the ground, he said, "We should keep going."

"Are you going to be able to do this?" Twist asked, her voice cracking in the middle. She cleared her throat, self-conscious, then shook her head. "It's up to us, now. You know that, right?"

"There's a difference between what I did to Leo and what I'll do to Braiser, Twist." Declan's voice had no inflection in it at all. His eyes on her were emotionless somehow.

Twist was terrified. What had he seen in her expression to cause such a change in him?

He stepped closer then, erasing all her fears. Gently licking her cheek, he breathed against her neck, "I'm afraid for you, Twist. Are _you_ going to be able to do this?"

Twist pressed her face once more into the fur of his chest, breathing in his scent, then took off without a word, hoping her running would answer for her.

Even if she couldn't answer that question for herself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"The cliffs," Twist breathed. Her belly was pressed into the sandy ground, her shoulders brushed by the prickly holly bush's leaves. Her claws sank into the ground more deeply as she stared unwavering at the dark hole in front of them.

It was nestled up against the cliff side, looking as unobtrusive as a rabbit hole. Long, feathery strands of grass were hanging over it, sheltering it from the rain that still pounded down from the gray clouds above. There was no one around it, though the air stank strongly of Claw guards—that mud and bitter water smell that turned her stomach.

Declan, pressed in next to her, took a step forward. His head raised just slightly to look between the branches of the holly. "I don't see anyone," he whispered to her. "No guards. No cats at all." His eyes drifted to her. "Where is everybody?"

She shook her head. It felt like the weight of this mission was weighing her down, pressing her deeper into this sandy ground. She wanted this to be over, all of it. She never wanted any of this. She didn't want to have to go into that hole and deal with her father again—not when she had thought for so long she had already dealt with him.

She brushed her tail along Declan's back, feeling him calm down beneath her touch. Her own heart slowed at their closeness—a sense of calm that only came when he was around.

_When did I come to love him so much?_

They took off at the same instant, flying out into the rain, paws soft as rays of moonlight. The shadows of the cave plunged around them, almost tangibly icy, even as the light went out.

Declan took the lead now, his tail brushing the ground, whisking up the scent of the Rogue and his cats. It settled around Twist like a dust cloud.

The tunnel leveled out slowly, until they reached a low bend that pressed Declan's high shoulders down. Twist slipped past him, ducking beneath the roof, her paws kicking up the water in the puddle that had settled there.

The dark water reflected a wavering image of her scared face. She looked away quickly.

The water came up to her chest at its highest. She returned to Declan.

"Come on, it clears up further in," she whispered.

Declan had to nearly go underwater to fit through the tunnel. "That seems like a stupid choice in construction," he noted breathlessly, shaking out his fur.

Twist, too pent up with nerves, set off again, leaving Declan to follow.

The first branching tunnel met them only a few paces further. The path split into two separate tunnels, lit by a hole in the ceiling. The moon shone down into the room, illuminating Declan's pricked ears in lines of silver as he stepped to join her.

Twist blinked. The forked paths looked exactly the same.

Declan padded forward, running his paws along the bottom of the curved dirt wall. "I don't see any marks here," he called to her, his voice echoing in the emptiness.

Twist joined him, trotting to the other side to check it out. The walls, bristling with clumps of packed sand and hairy roots, smelled strongly of earthiness, that overturned smell of dirt.

A heavy rock at the base of the wall caught her attention. Squinting, she leaned closer. In the half-light, it was much easier to see every pit in the surface of the rock, including three thin lines, carved deeply into the stone.

"Declan!"

He was at her side in an instant. His eyes widened as he saw the marks. "Snit was telling the truth," he breathed, mostly to himself.

Twist gave a nervous growl of approval, darting down the tunnel, leaving the safety of the light behind her.

Three more tunnels rushed up to them this time. The mark, unobtrusively carved high into the wall, guided them further into the cliffs, deeper into the den of their enemy. Closer, with every beat of her heart, to Twist's father.

He was waiting here somewhere. Maybe he already knew they were coming. He already knew about her, Twist knew, her heart somewhere in her throat. Why else would such attention be paid to her by cats she hardly knew? The question wasn't what Braiser knew—it was how much he knew.

They were so deep in the cliffs now, Twist couldn't even hear the rain. There was nothing but the pounding of paws on the ground and the echoes of harsh breathing in the air.

The smell hit Twist before she even saw the deepest, most concealed chamber of the cliffs.

It was strong, rancid, meat gone rotten. Not a smell that could ever possibly belong to a living creature.

Declan froze beside her, as he was carved from stone.

There was light in the tunnel ahead of them somehow, even though they had been steadily going downhill. In the faintness, Twist could see the outline of tattered ears, of shoulders that were impossibly sloped, of a notched and ragged tail sweeping the ground.

Then a voice: "I already told you, I don't need assistance! Go and fight with your brothers, you stupid mongrel!"

Twist felt every hair on her body rise.

Declan pressed into her shoulder as she felt herself take an automatic step backwards, revulsion and fear and above all horror rising in her throat, choking her throat like a physical object. In her mind's eye, sickly yellow eyes flashed.

She thought she might be sick.

It was true, all of it. Her father lived.

"Well?" Braiser growled, his voice not the same as she remembered, but low and guttural, a hiss slurring his words almost beyond recognition. "Are you coming in to nag me or not, Lightfoot?"

Despite the hammering of her disbelieving heart, Twist still felt a pang of shock: _Lightfoot is here somewhere? _She hadn't spared the vicious she-cat more than a passing thought in comparison to her missing friends—River, Gravel, and Flint. Knowing that the she-cat was here somewhere, worrying over Braiser, was terrifying. Could she be on their side, too?

Braiser, seemingly losing patience, turned around, allowing Twist to look him full in the face for the first time.

He was barely recognizable as the leader Twist once knew. His face, covered with large patches of scarred gray skin, was covered in scabs and sores. His fur was interrupted with erratic bare spots, his claws worn down to nubs. One of his legs—the front one closest to Twist—was nothing more than a twisted stump, the paw sickeningly facing the wrong way. His back was bent impossibly in the middle, causing him to curl in on himself like a sitting mouse, and Twist could see the messily-knitted broken ribs in his chest poking against the inside of his skin like pebbles along a shoreline.

The watery yellow of his eyes seemed to flare brighter as his eyes set on her. "Well well well," he said in his strangled voice. "For a moment there I thought you were your mother."

"You're alive." The words felt ripped from Twist's throat.

Braiser didn't move but to lower his head, giving Twist a terrifying view of his shadowed eyes. The darkness flickered there, hidden in the gold, like poison floating on the surface of water. Her breath was coming quick in her chest, making her lightheaded, when he growled, "I would assume by now you know what goes on around here. About my techniques with dealing with stubbornness. About my control"—his claws curled into the ground below him at the word—"over the cat you all seem to call the Rogue. About my survival from that one time you tried to kill me."

Twist felt her legs tremble. "I don't know about that last one."

"Yes, it is a rather fascinating story. I've been planning this meeting for moon cycles and moon cycles, Twist. How happily I awaited the moment you would fall back into my paws. My possession of you is now almost complete, once again, is it not?" When Declan made a furious gesture, his fur riled up along his back, Braiser blinked. Blinked again. Then cruel recognition lit his eyes. "Ah, you. You were my favorite, you know. Leo. Declan. It doesn't really matter. Both of those cats are in equal parts within your heart, aren't they?"

Declan only barely contained himself. Teeth snapping together, he didn't move an inch, though his fur was still bristling.

Braiser extended his normal paw—though "normal" would be far too generous of a term, Twist thought: it was just as mangled as his other, looking almost impossibly frail. Surely too weak to support his significant weight, even if he had lost muscle mass.

"Declan, the devoted and loyal friend, the soft-spoken and joyful, the one with such love and warmth in his heart. The protector." He slashed his paw across the ground to his other side, his eyes focused with an almost clinical interest on his own motions. "And Leo. The passionate one, the unendingly bloodthirsty, the one who would color the forest with the blood of his enemies. The warrior." His lips curled in a smirk. "Curious how those two so often conflict, isn't it? Tranquility and war, controlled and unrestrained. Love and hatred."

"If you're done with your monologue, we have some questions for you," Twist snapped, her eyes flicking to Declan's horrified face and away again, rage burning in her chest.

Braiser's eyes flashed with fury. "Yes, go ahead. Surely you're here to kill me. If you can even do it properly this time."

Twist bared her teeth. "How did you survive?"

"The curious thing about falling," Braiser announced to the ceiling, his eyes unfixed on anything, "is the simple fact of how far you fall—and how hard. When you pushed me off the cliff that night, Twist, I didn't fall simply down into nothingness. That would hardly make sense. Even at the peak of that cliff, there was a bottom. And, luckily for me and not so luckily for you, that bottom consisted of a stream."

"Hitting a stream from that high up would have killed you," Twist said coldly. "You're lying."

Braiser laughed then, loudly and horribly. It sounded like he was choking. "Lying! Lying, really? You _saw _me. I fell down into that abyss but I swear I must have hit every rock and branch on the way down. Some of them, I caught. Some of them caught me." He rolled his neck with a sickening crack of aligning bones. "When I reached the water, I was so weak from blood loss and agony that I could scarcely move. I lay there, floating along, until I was washed out of our mountain territory and into warmer waters. Somehow, buoyed along by the current, I realized what was happening. Somehow I clung to life. I washed up on the banks of this place and caught the attention of one of the guards. He brought me to their leader. His affection for cats of the mountains was hardly a secret, so I simply told him I belonged to the mountains. He was under the impression that we mountain cats possessed high intellect. It was easy to twist such a simple mind—especially since he thought himself so clever in the first place.

"I joined the ranks here, not as a warrior—I am too far gone for that—but as an informant. A source of information. The master of this place drinks in information as if he was dying of thirst and it was the last puddle in the forest. I told him all I knew—I would never get back up the mountain regardless—and he allowed me to be treated. I stayed in a den off the side of his place—these cliffs—and for awhile, that was enough."

"But you wanted more," Twist guessed, her heart beating wildly in her chest like a trapped bird.

Braiser lowered his head again, eyes glowing. "Yes. Once, in my youth, I came across a young no-pelt. He was climbing the mountain for whatever reason, and I followed him, partly because I had never seen a no-pelt before in my life and partly because I was starving. I watched him catch his own food, cook it with fire, go about his business with his highly capable paws. I was fascinated. I had never once wished to be anything more than a survivor in those mountains but for the first time I _wanted. _I wanted to be like him. I wanted to know his ways. I befriended him, pretending I was a normal cat, a pet, and he believed me. He kept me fed and warm and protected and I watched him, hoarding his secrets like treasures.

"Once, he came across a rarity in the mountains: a beehive. I watched as he lit a pile of dry leaves, blowing them into a smoky life. He tossed them beneath the hive. The bees, realizing an enemy was within their range, flew out to attack. But the smoke stopped them in their tracks. They fell to the ground, stunned and unknowing, while my no-pelt raided their home of its honey."

His eyes flicked to Twist, who could not disguise the attentiveness on her face quickly enough. Something lit once more in the yellow depths of his eyes and Twist was ashamed.

"The no-pelt and I eventually parted ways but I never forgot the bees. Could it be possible that smoke could alter something from ferocity into tameness like that? Could it be possible that such a technique could be used on other creatures? On cats? The idea consumed me."

"You never used that on the gang," Twist spat. "I would have remembered."

Braiser acknowledged this with a tip of his head. "You're right. I didn't. Right after I learned about no-pelts and their ways, I joined the gang. I wasn't leader yet, not for a few more moon cycles, but your mother was there. She and I fell in love. She was flawless, beautiful, talented, strong. A perfect mate for me. I loved her more than anything else. When she told me she was expecting kits—you, Twist—I was ecstatic. All thoughts of the no-pelt and his smoke fled my mind with the prospect of fatherhood."

"You weren't a good father." Twist curled her claws into the ground, nausea still roiling in her belly from his twitchy movements and horrific wounds. "You're lying."

"I'm not. I _was _happy to be a father. At least," he added, his gravelly voice pitching lower, more guttural, "until you were born.

"Spirit, who had been completely loyal to me and me alone, supporting me in my attempts to become the new leader of the gang, had changed. She wasn't the proud, fierce she-cat I fell in love with. She was a puddle of emotions, cooing over you. Ignoring me. Ignoring all we had planned. I found myself time and time again wondering why I had ever thought fathering a kit had been a good idea. I couldn't understand this change in Spirit. I despised it. And so I despised you."

Declan snorted. "Jealous of your own kit before she could even open her eyes?"

"I didn't need her," Braiser said, now with an edge of impatience in his ragged voice. "I don't need any more kits. I have new children now—ones that are completely loyal to me. Not ones that turn against me like her mother did! I loved Spirit! I loved her with my entire heart and she betrayed me! After her treachery, after she left me to coddle over some runt, something in me died. You wouldn't know it. You've never experienced true love. You're too young. Spirit was my only love. She should have come back to me. When my cats here captured her, I made sure no harm was come to her."

"So she was here!" Twist hissed victoriously before she could stop herself.

"I assumed she would be. I was confident she would take the fall for what you did. And I was right. I sent my cats out looking for her and they found her." His lips curled then, the teeth beneath yellow and broken. "They brought her to me. I tried to convince her to come back to me, that I still loved her. She took one look at this face—the face that she caused!—and spurned me. I wanted her kept safe regardless. I am not a monster, Twist, as much as you think it. I had her placed carefully out of harm's way, keeping her deep within the cliffs so she would be safe."

Twist couldn't believe her ears. Braiser, keeping her mother trapped here? "She escaped from you. You never had control over her. She wouldn't allow it."

Braiser's eyes sharpened like ice. "She only escaped with help! One of this master's cats was not as trustworthy as he assumed. One of his sons, a useless scrap of nothing. Just like Spirit became to me. Just like you, Twist." Her name curled on his tongue like something rotten. "I'm done talking to you. I've had enough of this. I live a peaceful life here. I direct the Claws; it's easy when the leader is so consumed with his obsession that he doesn't even notice that he's never had control of his own gang. Not since I've been here." His teeth, exposed and sharp, snapped once. "It's perfect."

Twist only felt disgust. This cat had fallen so far and still thought he had enough power to command forces—though clearly though wounded, he had kept his mind intact, the mind that lead the gang to successful survival under his control.

"Regardless." He stood awkwardly, his back hunched over, his fur matted and filthy. The smell of him hit the roof of Twist's mouth like carrion; she gagged, forced backwards, even as he staggered forward a pace, his breath catching with the strength of the pain in his broken body. "I have no more use for you. Like I said, I have other children now." He yowled, the sound torn from his throat.

And at once, Twist hit the ground. Blood burst in her mouth and she tasted dirt as the cat dug its claws into the back of her neck. Twisting her head around, she made out the gleam of vivid green eyes, of the black stripe that cut down the white cat's back like a shadow: Lightfoot.

Something was off about her. The general air of ferocity was missing from the she-cat. Instead, her eyes were dull in her narrow face, chips of moss-grown pebbles. A smoky smell clung to her fur.

_He's tamed her, _was Twist's first thought.

_He's destroyed her, _was her second, because the scent of smoke and sweet herbs was far too overpowering to be easily curable. Even Declan had not been as strongly treated.

He was on the ground next to her, though unlike her, he was fighting. His claws raking out at his guard—an unrecognizable black tom coated with mud—he missed, getting nothing but a cuff over his head for his troubles.

Braiser was laughing now, the sound like rocks grinding together. "Now," he said, with relish. His kinked tail flicked over his back. "Time to show you how to _really _kill a cat."

* * *

**Ugh, this chapter is short. And kind of bad. But I'm not gonna whine about it because it's my fault for both of those things. Perhaps I will write a better chapter next time. XD **

**So now...I'm going to bed. I have to go sign the lease for my apartment tomorrow and have to get up at nine. NINE. It's like my mother hates me.**

**Or doesn't know I'm a night-owl.**

**Or a writer for that matter.**

**Anyway. Rambling now. I really do nothing in this dooblydoo but ramble, don't I? At least up top I have something decent. (THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID)**

**Anyway. Again.**

**You know what to do! **

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	28. Chapter 28

**I would have had this chapter up, like, two days ago, but I decided to make a gigantic Toothless plushie. I found the pattern for it on DeviantArt and I just _had _to make it. I get these urges, you know? I see something and I absolutely have to do it right then or I'll die. Last time it was crochet an afghan. Time before that it was sew a Raichu cosplay for a Con. This time? Toothless plushie. He's like four feet long, snuggly, soft, and adorable. And I love him. IT WAS WORTH IT, OKAY? XD**

**Queen of the Pens - Hee! Then it was probably my inner-critic nagging at me. XD**

**Blazingstar of ThunderClan - Heehee! I got the idea from The Swiss Family Robinson when the dad smokes a falcon into tameness. And I was like, "Huh... -jots down for evil authoress purposes- I like when characters don't admit it, too, simply for the joy of writing lovey-dovey scenes. I do love romances so. I hope that I'm doing an alright job and it's not coming off as cheesy. XD And it's okay, 'cause I write longer chapters during the night! XD**

**Before The Winter's Dawn - Have I mentioned that I love your penname? You guys are so creative with the pennames. -jealous- Another Warriors story? B-b-b-but I've already written ten of those! XD You mean like a sequel? Huh... Maybe. X3**

**tufted titmouse - Heehee! Yes! Stab the evil kitteh! -joins in stabbing-**

**LegendaryHero - I do love to keep it level with lovey-doveyness and seriousness. Hopefully it's not giving anyone mood whiplash. Haha, isn't it funny how animal stories always feature some animal lusting over human hands? I mean, I guess they are pretty handy - that whole opening jars and writing thing pretty much makes 'em useful for me. XD **

**Mintheart - Yeah, I bet it sucks to be him. All hobbly and pokey-looking. I wonder how it is that he can stand? Probably only for plot-purposes. XD**

**theDiabolical - Haha, no worries! She was that crazy one who kinda killed a Claw guard right when Twist and that little group first got captured. It was way back in the beginning, I dunno even what chapter. XD**

**Tangleflame - Kids in just a muwahahahaha-I-hate-you-real-daughter kind of way. XD**

**Da Mao - I hope so too! Otherwise I probably wouldn't be able to do anything else. I don't have many talents, you see. I'm very inept at this whole Real Life thing. That's why writing is just better. And in response to your other review - writing tips and whatnot - I suggest daydreaming a lot. That's what I do, even when I'm supposed to be paying attention. XD Also storing things away in little file cabinets in your brain - names, features, habits, that kinda stuff. That's the stuff that brings realism to characters - even if they're cats! XD **

**Amazingly awesome person - I looooooove the whole man-behind-the-man kinda plot. I've been dying to try it out. And now that I have, I feel very...happy. XD And slightly diabolical. WHAT A TWIST! XD **

**brightbreath13 - Hee! I'm glad you like it (and Declan)! :D**

**artemis7337 - Dude, right after I wrote this, The Incredibles came on Disney channel and I watched it and was like, "Lol, I totally ripped off that monologuing thing by accident." If you read my comment to Da Mao up there you'll see what I said about file cabinets in your brain? Well, that sometimes backfires and you end up stealing someone else's idea by mistake. XD I noticed I did the same thing by having Sorrow say something exactly the way that GLaDOS says it in Portal 2 but no one pointed it out so I was like, "Cool, cool, I'm good." XD**

**the lone geisha - Oh, this story will be done in, like, two more weeks for sure, so no problem with that. ;) **

**XxJabberjayxX - So I'm looking at your penname and saying to myself, "Dude. Another Hunger Games fan." And then I see your icon and I'm like, "OMGOMGOMG. Hunger Games." And then I see your review and I'm all like, "Aaaawwwww~ Gonna make me blush!" So it's okay, Jabberjay, because I love you, too. XD**

**Okay. You guys ready? **

**'Cause here coooooooooooomes...the showdown!**

**Onto the story!**

* * *

Jaw aching from being pushed against the ground, Twist almost didn't notice her father approaching her, bending down to her level. His breath hit her face like a hot breeze straight off of a carcass.

"You could have avoided all of this, Twist. You could have agreed with me, back then on the mountainside. All you had to do was agree."

"I'll never agree with you," she growled out, her voice nearly unintelligible. Lightfoot's claws were digging into the back of her neck, sharp enough to pierce her skin. "You're a monster."

He laughed then, a cracked, wheezy coughing sound. "Say all the names you want, Twist. I won. I will always win. And when your leader Lucky is dead, I'll handle the Rogue myself. He's getting quite the big ego now, isn't he? His theatrics are wearing thin on my patience. No matter, though: my lovely pet Lightfoot will take care of them. Quite the murderess, this one." He spared the she-cat a fond look. "A better daughter to me than you ever were, and she's not even related by blood! You would think my blood would have had an influence on you, Twist."

"It did," she snarled. She twisted her head, raking out a gouge in the dusty ground, so she could look him in the face. At this angle, with the light of the open ceiling behind him, his eyes glowed like sickly yellow flames. A nightmare made real. "If I didn't have your blood, I would never have had the guts to kill you."

His eyes widened in surprise. "Kill me!" he echoed, laughing sharply once at the end of the words. "You never killed me, stupid she-cat! I survived! And better than ever!"

"So I can see. You look like something a no-pelt machine ran over."

His expression darkened like a storm cloud. "Don't test my patience."

"Haven't I been doing that since I was born?" she sneered, jerking her shoulders until Lightfoot's claws fell loose. "Father?" She spat the word out like poison.

Declan let out a soft sound of surprise but she didn't look over at him. Her eyes, powered by all the venom she had in her body, were fixed on her father, her target.

_You must kill Braiser. _Snit's words echoed in her head.

His blood. That's what she would need to see. She had to see a body to know for certain this time. There could be no doubts. Braiser had to die.

But could she kill him? She had tried to do it once before, but that was almost by accident. Almost. She hadn't known he would fall over the edge and become _this—_this twisted, half-dead monster. She wished he was dead. More than anything else she had felt in her life, she wished he was dead.

But could she be the one to kill him?

_I can't do it, _she realized the next instant; her father quirked his head to one side, as if reading her thoughts. _I tried once. I can't do it again. No matter what he says about my blood, I am not him. I am not a killer. _

Lightfoot spoke for the first time: "Master, what do you wish for these cats?" Her voice was dull and unaffected, as if she didn't really care. It did not sound like the ferocious she-cat Twist had once seen kill a rogue right before her very eyes.

_Kill a cat…_

Twist might not be able to kill her father, but maybe…maybe someone else could.

"Lightfoot," Twist said suddenly, and she felt the she-cat flinch slightly above her at the sound of her name. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing. She is a perfect creature. And so beautiful." His voice was filled with nothing but prideful arrogance, like a kit boasting about the size of his first kill. "She protects me when no others can. A masterpiece. My protégé. Everything to me that you should have been."

"So, you treated her with smoke as well?"

Braiser's eyes flashed. "My methods of treatment have nothing to do with you. I've already explained myself."

"You think that I don't know what happened to Declan?"

"If you didn't know I had something to do with it by now, I would question your sanity," he said degradingly. "You have inherited your mother's sense."

Declan, picking up on what Twist was aiming for, said, "The smell of herbs was overpowering in that cave. The lights reflecting the fire blinded me. Sweet and smoky, filling my brain. Blocking my reason. Cloying like a rotten flower. Burning like a wildfire."

Above her, Twist felt Lightfoot flinch again.

"Lucky didn't forget about the Sliders you and the Rogue captured," Twist growled to Braiser, who, in his arrogance, had not looked away from her. His eyes, her eyes, were unflinching. "He knew what you were doing. He might not have known everything but he knew something was up."

"Lucky is a fool," Braiser said dismissively. "A fool who could not get past his kithood. He thought he was the precious chosen one by Wisp, that daft old she-cat."

"The Warren is impenetrable," Twist said loudly, shifting her weight. She had one front paw free from Lightfoot's weight, but she kept it hidden beneath the dark fringe of her fur. "No cat of the Rogue's has ever gotten in."

"I don't understand your blathering. This has nothing to do with anything. As if I care if Lucky survives. As if I care if the Rogue lives or dies. He's nothing to me but a speaker, a voice for one who doesn't have one. I might not be the face of the Claws but I am the voice."

"Lightfoot, you remember the Warren, don't you?" Declan's voice was soft, barely carrying over Braiser's harsh breathing, growing more rapid with every passing moment.

"Shut up," he growled.

"It was an old no-pelt dump. On the hillside. There were just enough of the strange no-pelt lights to keep it lit in the nighttime. Behind it was the last bit of the brook. You remember the brook. You taught me how to catch rats there once, right after my month of service."

"Stop it," Braiser said, sounding more aware now. "Stop it."

"Lightfoot, what about Beck? You two were so close. Best friends." Twist joined now, keeping her voice just as low and even. "And they killed him, Lightfoot. They killed Beck because he fought back. Because he wouldn't betray the Sliders. He protected us. All of us. Especially you. And they murdered him."

"Lightfoot, get out." Braiser's voice was taut with fury. "Leave. Right now. What are you standing there for? _I told you to get out this instant!"_

But Lightfoot had already moved. Slowly, so slowly, she extricated her claws from the back of Twist's neck, setting her paw daintily on the ground. "Beck," she said thickly, her voice sounding dragged from her throat. "Where…where is he…Master? Where…where's Beck?"

"Beck?" Braiser echoed. He looked wildly around, his eyes setting on the black tom still pinning Declan down; he looked confused, as if he'd suddenly forgotten what he was doing or why he was there, though he still pressed Declan to the ground, his forelegs stiff from the effort. "Why, Beck is right there, my dear."

The tom blinked once. "Y-yes. It's me, Lightfoot. Beck." He must not have been smoke-treated, because the surprise on his face was genuine. "I'm Beck."

Lightfoot stepped back again now, shaking her head, disoriented. Twist slowly stretched into a sitting position, head low, as the black and white she-cat said, "You're…That's…" Then the dark light flicked on in her eyes, setting the green to vibrancy like a sparking flame. "You're lying."

"You're confused," Braiser soothed, his rough voice too uneven and strangled to be comforting. "These cats are enemies. They're trying to trick you."

"No," Lightfoot said, her voice a cold snap. "I know them. Twist. Declan. They were Sliders with me. Pathetic little fools afraid of a little violence, but Sliders all the same. And that means they're more than blood to me." She strode forward, with a deadly purposefulness in her lithe walk. Her feathery tail, untangled despite the abuse that hollowed her eyes and sharpened her features, shard-like beneath her soft white fur. "Unlike you. You I remember. The weakling, the disgusting, rotting filth that stains the Claws. Unlike my gangmates, I do respect the Claws for their battling prowess. For a time, I considered spying over here, learning your ways." Her head went to the side, like a curious kit. "That all disappeared when I saw what you were doing here. What you did to me. I am not a forgiving cat, _Master, _and I will certainly not forgive you."

"Lightfoot," Braiser said. He licked his dry lips, something close to fear entering his eyes for the first time. "Stop."

Lightfoot's pupils were dots in her eyes, the whites visible all around the green of her irises. It almost hurt to look at her. "I will not stop until I've matched your pain with mine. Not until you've repaid me with blood."

"I will," Braiser promised quickly. His eyes darted to where Twist stood. He nodded to her. "You can take out my debt on her. On Twist. She's my daughter. She has my blood. She's just like me."

The words hit Twist like claws, making her flinch. Stuck silent, she held her tongue and stared with wide eyes, hearing the slow rasp as Declan stood, the black tom having stepped to the side of the den.

Declan was there in the next instant, his warm fur the only truth in the world for her.

Lightfoot didn't even glance around. She had Braiser pinned against the far wall now, her supple shoulders fluidly beneath her soft pelt. She curved then, her tail curling slightly, twitching at the tip. "You have done nothing but lie to me. You lied that my friends were waiting in that den when you brainwashed me. You lied to me when you told me Beck was alive all the time. And just now," she continued silkily, her eyes never leaving Braiser's face, watching, measuring, "you lied to me when you told me that _this—ratty—tom_"—And now her voice raised to a screech, her head twisting around to glare at the black tom, who understandably cowered back, away from the ferocity on her face—"was Beck. You think I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between them? Did you really think I would allow that to pass?"

Her head lowered again as she turned back to him, flattening her body into one smooth line which Twist recognized immediately and terrifyingly as a hunting crouch.

"Now then," she whispered.

Braiser looked petrified. "I rescued you," he said quickly. "I told them not to kill you. I saved you. You would be dead right now if it wasn't for me!"

"I'd rather be dead!" she screamed. "Dead! I'd rather have died than turn into this! Some kind of sick pet for a revolting cat like you! You have done nothing in your life that's good enough to save your disgusting pelt."

"That's not true," Braiser gasped. His eyes, wide and round like eggs, wheeled aimlessly. He fixed on Twist. "I had a daughter! I loved her like…like…I loved her more than my own life!"

"You disgusting little worm," Lightfoot said in revulsion. "Unable to do anything but spew lies."

"I loved her mother. Spirit. She was more to me than anything."

"Your words aren't going to save you," Lightfoot growled. She jerked forward, teeth bared, and Braiser fell back screeching.

The sound grated on Twist's ears, striking deep in her heart. The sound of pure terror. The sound he had made when he fell to his death.

"Twist," Declan said, his voice soft.

She opened her eyes, unaware she had closed them.

Declan was looking at something over his shoulder, then turned back to her. She thought she would drown in his green eyes. She didn't want to look over to where her father was, crouching in the corner, his dark, coiled evil too beyond saving.

"Don't look," Declan whispered.

Twist closed her eyes again, her face against his shoulder.

"No," Braiser said brokenly, his voice low and terrible. "No…get away! Get away from me! No! No, it can't end like this! Twist, _don't let her!_ Stop her! I'm your father! Twist! No! I can't die! No! _No no no—"_

There was a rush of sound, claws scattering along the ground, and a terrifying snarling. Something skidded, hitting the ground hard enough for it to shake through Twist's bones. She didn't move her face away from Declan's fur even when she heard silence fall.

It was over quickly, swift and neat as hunting a mouse.

Declan gently turned her away, pushing her back towards the tunnel.

"Wait," Twist said, finding her voice; it felt like it had been lost somewhere in the vicinity of her belly. "Wait, I have to make sure." The darkness of the tunnel was nearly absolute, but enough filtered down through the cracks in the rocks to make out the merest glint of Declan's eyes.

He didn't look away. "He's dead, Twist. Lightfoot killed him."

"I have to see it," she whispered. "It's the only way I can—" Her voice broke and she couldn't continue. She just stared at him, beseechingly. "Please, Declan."

He hesitated for a few, agonizing moments. "I… Oh, Twist, you don't have to see it. I don't want you to see it."

Her heart flew to her throat. How badly had Lightfoot mangled him before she left him alone?

"I have to," she whispered.

Declan closed his eyes. When he opened them, something had changed in them, toughened somehow. "I'll go back and make sure."

"No," she protested but he cut her off.

"Trust me, Twist. I've seen more horrible things than a dead body." He pushed his nose against her neck. "Wait for me."

Her breath fluttering in her chest, she closed her eyes. "Always."

Declan's breath caught for a moment, then he pulled away. He vanished back down the tunnel.

Twist stared after him with dismay. _How could I have allowed myself to be so weak? Why did I let him go? Oh, stars, what if he never forgives me for this? _If Declan hadn't wanted her to see, Braiser must have been… She didn't even want to think about it.

"Declan?" she called, hearing pawsteps.

It wasn't Declan; it was Lightfoot.

Her eyes, glowing greenish through the gloom, fixed on Twist. "Oh. It's you. I thought you'd gone after he'd come back in." She scoffed. "He thinks I might have left him alive?" she asked, mistaking Declan's actions. "I don't leave anyone alive that I set out to kill."

"Did you mean what you said?" Twist asked. "Back in there? About the Sliders being more than blood to you?"

For the briefest moment, no more than a heartbeat, the fire died down in Lightfoot's green eyes. "Yes. The Sliders have always been kind to me. They took me in when no one else wanted me. I'll fight for them until the day that I die." Then she shook herself, fluffing back out her feathery fur. "Starting again now. Declan tells me there's a war going on at home?"

_Home. _The word was full of equal parts pain and warmth. "Yes."

Lightfoot nodded to herself. "Then that's where I'll be. I might have let Beck die on my watch, but no one else will. And I know that a few of the Claws have been like me. Smoke treated." She spat the words out, her ears flattening along the line of her head. "I'll make sure they become aware of the situation. You gather up Declan and follow after." She flew down the tunnel without another word, her paws quick from what Twist guessed was constant practice: After all, Sorrow had told her what felt like forever ago that Lightfoot had been working in the cliffs since she'd been captured.

The cliffs…would this place still hold the legions of Claws after this was all over? Now that their leader-behind-the-leader had been killed?

_Well, there you go, Snit, _Twist thought, staring blankly off into the wall, too tired to really think anything. _You got what you wanted. _

Declan appeared in the midst of her thoughts. He didn't say anything at first, searching her eyes steadily, before he spoke: "He's dead."

Twist's breath caught. "You're sure?"

He nodded. "Absolutely. No cat…could survive that. He wasn't breathing. His heart wasn't beating. He's gone, Twist. Gone." The last word was barely a breath, let alone a word.

And all at once, Twist felt disgusted with herself. "Declan, I'm so…so sorry. I didn't… It wasn't my intention to…"

"Don't." He drew her to him, resting his chin on top of her head. "It's all over now, Twist. It's over. He's dead."

Curled against Declan's chest, Twist felt the utmost…relief. It was intoxicating. He was dead. After all this time, finally and truly dead. She didn't need to fear the shadows anymore, after all this. Finally, she could breathe. This was it. It was over.

Braiser had finally drowned in the darkness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Outside, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. The trees no longer bent over like dark fur, the storm no longer whipping up whirlwinds. Even the howling of the wind against the rock face had quieted, leaving nothing but complete and utter silence.

Declan and Twist fled through the forest like shadows.

And every step felt like eternity.

Side by side, plunging along the dark pathway, Twist didn't feel frightened. The darkness that lapped at her paws was nothing more than a simple shadow, and the gloom that fell about her was no longer oppressive—it was night, simple and delicate like an upturned flower, the moon shining palely in the sky like an eye.

She had never felt such freedom.

Declan caught her looking around, and amusement lit his eyes. Perhaps it was her brush with her father, with death once again, that had made everything brilliant, or perhaps she had just never before appreciated how handsome he was, especially when his eyes were on her.

"It's like you're seeing everything with new eyes," he noted.

Twist laughed, the sound surprising her with its lightness. "I've just never noticed some things."

"Maybe that's because you've been hiding from it all."

"I haven't been hiding," she protested. "I've been…"

"Scared?" he suggested, looking away quickly. "Too afraid to do anything? Afraid of the truth?"

She glanced over at him. She had a feeling they weren't talking about nighttime anymore. "What…what do you mean?"

Declan ducked beneath a tangle of ivy, his eyes fixed ahead of him unwaveringly. "I'm just saying, sometimes…things feel dangerous that aren't. Do you know what I mean?"

"No," she said.

Declan's brow furrowed. "This is…difficult."

"What is?"

Declan glanced over at her quickly, then away again. "Being…with you."

Twist turned away, her heartbeat feeling thick in her chest. Her paws leadenly plodding along, her mind went into overdrive.

_Oh, no. Oh, no, this is because I asked him to go back and make sure my father was dead. He's finally realized it. He's finally realized how hard it is to be with me. That's what he means. He knows I'm too…too messed-up to be with. I shouldn't have asked him to go back and look. I didn't want that image in my head so I shoved it off onto his shoulders. What if he hates me for it? What if he can't look at me the same way again?_

The silence between them only lasted so long before Declan said, "Are you awake over there?"

"Y-yes," Twist stammered. Now icy realization had frozen away the giddiness she had felt earlier. "Just…thinking."

"About what?"

Twist slowed to a stop in response. In front of her, she could see the end of the forest, that ragged, moonlit border where she could still hear the yowls and snarls of battle. The wind caught then, bringing her the scent of blood.

_More of us could be dead for this, _she thought, the breeze tugging the fur on her neck. She shivered at the oncoming touches of the cold-season.

Declan stood behind her as she walked to the end of the woods. The hill broke away sharply here, cascading downwards in a wave of rolling green grass and patches of battle-torn ground. All around were scattered clumps of fur, splashes of bright blood, still sticky and red in the moonlight. Twist looked at it, wondering who had bled there. Across from her, down below a rock, she could see two bodies.

The battlefield was empty of life.

The two cats, one Claw, one Slider, were still connected with teeth and claws. The guard, a mud-slicked tabby, was old, his white whiskers brushing against the ripped ground. The Slider was a young white tom, too young to be fighting, barely older than a kit. For one horrible, gut-wrenching moment, Twist thought it was Max until she saw the intact ears. She let out a sigh.

_I should not be relieved that this cat is dead, _she told herself, but she was. Horribly and sickeningly, she was almost thankful that this young tom, his body broken and empty, was not a cat she knew closely.

They had both clearly died fighting. The Slider had his claws in a deadlock in the Claw's throat. The Claw guard's hind claws were still unsheathed, his mouth still snarling, fighting even in death.

Twist just looked down wordlessly at them until Declan got there. He gently touched her shoulder.

"This is the cost of war," he said softly.

Twist bared her teeth, more in frustration than in anger. "It didn't have to come to this."

"No," he said. "But it did. It's up to the living to make up for what the dead lost."

Twist didn't say anything. Her eyes were on the blood that pooled between the cats. Claw and Slider blood mixed together. She felt sick.

"We need to find everyone." Declan looked past her shoulder, down at the base of the hill. No cat was visible but she could hear them, the screams and yowls rising from _somewhere. _

"They're in the Warren," she realized, stunned. "They've broken in." She exchanged a glance with Declan and they both took off at the same second.

Inside, there was madness.

Cats flying from every direction, claws extended, teeth flashing in the rising light that had only just broken over the horizon. A pair of tabbies, screaming their fury, rolled past Twist, ripping out pawfuls of fur, blood spattering the ground. On the top of the metal pipe, three Sliders were ganging up on a pair of Claw guards, forcing them backwards, making them tumble down to the ground.

They flew into the tunnel, delving down into the depths of the Warren. Along the way, they were met by a pair of sharp-fanged Sliders—Viktor and Kent.

"You're alive!" Viktor gasped. His forehead was dripping blood down into his mouth and his shoulder was ripped to the skin but he seemed otherwise untouched. Kent looked a little worse for wear, his eyes half-closed against several bleeding lines of scratches.

"Viktor, what's going on? Why is everyone in here now? How are we going to get them out? How could we have let them break in?" In her haste, Twist's words tumbled out of her mouth in one long rush, running into each other.

Viktor laughed once, harshly. He lowered his head, single eye gleaming. "They didn't break in. We let them in."

"Let them!" Declan echoed, eyes widening.

"You'll see later. Keep going down this way; we need to protect the kits. We'll hold strong here." When they didn't move, Viktor seized Twist by the scruff, heaving her effortlessly behind him. "They're down in the healing den. Go!"

Twist didn't even look back as she ran, Declan just behind her. She could feel his paws echoing against the ground, matching in step to her own.

Despite the pressing circumstances, she still couldn't fight down that pang in her heart when she thought of him. Being with her was difficult, he had said. Difficult.

When they broke into the tiny hollow before Lucky's den opened up, they hit a battle again. Along the box dens to the side tumbled pairs of cats, Claws and Slider battling even here. Twist kept an eye out, searching for the Rogue, but didn't see him. She didn't see a Claw she recognized until that very next instant.

There was a great scraping of paws above, screeching against the metal, and then a cat let out a high-pitched yowl. The cat flew through the air impossibly fast, crashing into one of the box dens so hard that he bent it in half. In the dust, he coughed wildly, groaning in pain, and Twist half-rushed to his side until she smelled that thin, bitter smell of Claws and recognized the tufty patch of fur on his head.

"Shredder," she spat.

He looked up dizzily, his eyes out-of-focus. Swaying from side to side, he corrected in a disoriented slur, "That's…_the _Shredder." He fell forward onto his face and didn't move again.

The cat who had thrown him let out a victorious crow. Twist looked up to see Marco and—to her utter relief—Max; he was healed almost completely, though his ears were worn down to ratty nubs. The two young toms laughed, stomping their paws on the metal, scraping their claws along it.

"Come on, Marco," Max said giddily. "Let's go get another one! That one's out cold!"

Marco purred, the sound somehow edging on aggressive. "I knew I always liked you. Come on. I'll show you how to sneak up on them!" They disappeared back along the top of the pipe.

Twist watched them go, amazed. Could it be possible that the Sliders could have the advantage now?

"Watch out!" Declan hissed.

Twist felt the blow coming before it hit. She ducked under the cat's slicing claws, ramming her head into its chest. It flew back, wheezing, and another cat caught it from behind, its pelt smelling of metal and dust and pine trees: A Slider?

The cat got to its feet, its foe run off, and Twist saw with a start who it was. She was speechless.

"Now that I understand the mechanics of fighting, I have to say that it is an entirely unpleasant affair." Lucky shook out his fur, licking swiftly at his shoulder. He stopped in mid-lick. "You look very surprised, Twist."

"I…I am." Twist couldn't stop staring.

Lucky had his head quirked to one side, his tail curling in amusement. Along his flanks were long lines of scratches, one of his perfectly-triangular ears was notched, and he had a cut extending from the top corner of one nearly-black eye back.

"You're…fighting?" Declan asked, sounding equally stunned.

"Yes. I decided to think for myself for once. I am far past my kithood to be relying on my mother for so much information. After all, this is my group and these are my cats. I would be considered a coward if I did not show them what it meant to be a leader." His eyes glittered. "As you and Viktor taught me, Twist. So I have decided the best way to defeat the enemy Claws is to simply allow them into the Warren. Needless to say, they have never been in here before. It was quite disorienting for them, I am sure."

"Have you seen the Rogue?"

"Not yet. It seems he is as elusive as ever. I am certain he is here somewhere. I had assumed I would be the perfect bait for him but he has not come for me yet. Doubtlessly, he is searching for me. I have only yet begun to fight but I will lay down everything I have to save the Sliders, Twist. Do not worry for them. They are all fighting bravely. We will win this yet." His eyes fixed on something over Twist's shoulder and he said politely, "Now, please excuse me. I believe I see another Claw that is in need of, I believe the term is, a beat-down." He vanished into the tunnel, and Twist could hear his polite voice as he announced his presence to his enemy.

Declan followed Lucky's progress until he disappeared. "Wow."

"Tell me about it."

Below Lucky's den, in that circular pit carved deep within the thick dirt, was the healing den. No one had yet reached this place yet, Twist noticed with intense relief. She darted down the mouth of the tunnel, ducking inside. "Hello?"

She was met by the flashing of claws. They caught her across the mouth, ripping her lip. She tasted blood at the same moment a cat said, "Ooh, sorry, Twist. I didn't know it was you."

"That's okay, Kite," Twist said, though her mouth was throbbing with hurt.

The white she-cat looked extremely distressed. "I'm just so used to the rest of the battle," she explained quickly. "I didn't know that another Slider would be coming down here. The last one I saw was Viktor—" She cut herself off abruptly then, demanded, "Where's Viktor? Have you seen him? If anything happened to him, I'd—"

Declan stopped her gently. "We just saw him. He's fine."

Kite let out an audible sigh of relief. "Thank the stars," she whispered. "I can't imagine our kits without their father."

"Are they here?" Twist looked behind her, checking for signs of the little kits.

"They're in one of the back dens. I have Jenny and Willow's kits here, too. They wanted their turn to fight, since I've already had mine." She frowned then. "Audrey was supposed to be here, too, but she hasn't come back since we brought the Claws into the Warren."

"She lost Snit," Twist whispered.

Kite looked away down toward the ground. "I know," she murmured. "I worry for her now, Twist. I'm afraid that his death might break her. Please, you have to go find her. She might be in trouble. She's not thinking rationally. I asked her to stay here but she wouldn't."

Declan stepped back toward the tunnel. "We'll find her."

Kite looked at him, gratefulness radiating from her pelt. "Thank you."

Twist went to follow Declan up the tunnel, back out into the battle, but Kite called her back.

"Twist dear," she said fretfully, licking a cut on her forehead that Twist hadn't even noticed. Her eyes were full of motherly concern. "Be safe. Come back. Protect Declan."

Twist closed her eyes. "I will. I promise."

"I'll hold you to that. Now get. And tell Audrey to come back here so I can rip some Claw fur again. I quite liked it." Her eyes were comforting.

Twist let out a single purr, then darted back up the tunnel and into the fray.

* * *

**I didn't wanna end you guys on too bad of a cliffie, since I know how you hate that. You silly reviewers you. XD**

**So, I has a question. **

**A lot of you guys have mentioned a sequel. I hadn't originally planned for Sidestep to have a sequel - it was gonna be like one stand-alone thing - but now I've been thinking...sequels could be cool. XD So I'll put it to you guys, 'cause I love writing this sucker anyway. **

**Sequel: Y/N?**

**Y'all have a good one, y'hear? I'mma go eat some strawberry showtcake...y'all. XD **

**I don't think you can say "strawberry shortcake" without a Southern accent. And being a Floridian, I walk the line of ancestors between deep-south and snowbirds, so I know how to do the accent. You have to be able to fake it in case you get pulled over. Cops are suckers for crying, southern-accented girls. Unless they themselves are women, then it's just awkward.**

**Not like I've ever gotten a ticket.**

**Though I did fail my driver's test the first time.**

**Frickin' left-turn green lights. **

**Anyway. Blabbing now.**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	29. Chapter 29

**Okay! Quick update is a GO!**

**Icestar0921 - Oh, darn, and I tried to make it _not _a cliffie. XD**

**Amazingly awesome person - NU-UH. Americans _totally _drive on the right side of the road. The right side is the right side. XD And was Lucky funny? I totally cracked up writing his crazy scenes. I have a few more in this chapter that will hopefully be lolsome. This new animated Lucky is a crap-ton - I mean Voldemort-ton - of fun to write about! XD And I'm glad that Marco and Max have fans! I did like them bunches so I just had to bring them back. XD**

**XxJabberjayxX - Lightfoot is definitely something else. In a way, it's so fun to write about the psychopaths but in another it's a little disturbing. Anything that's too tough for Twist and Declan to do I guess I can just hand over to Lightfoot and she'll git 'er done. XD About sequels: that's what I thought, too. I almost want to just keep going on with this one and have it be like a zillion words long but I think it would be much better to just have a clean slate for a new one. XD**

**LegendaryHero - I do love your lovely long reviews. XD Yeah, I tried to keep Braiser's death on the DL 'cause I want more POW for the real climax of the story. And I'm glad that the moments are working out well 'cause I'm always afraid that I'm going to make them too...saccharine. And that's terrible. XD I've been thinking about it a lot today and I figure I could do something like a six month to a year timeskip and then just pick up from there. The next generation thing is always so...blaaah. I did it for my other series but only after the second bit. XD **

**Blazingstar of ThunderClan - Hee! Romances are just sooooo much fun to write about. X3 I am so glad that it made you laugh. That's really, like, the best praise ever, I think. So just for you I added another funny Lucky scene in this chapter. XD **

**Queen of Pens - I definitely would love to write a sequel now. The idea has taken root in my brain like kudzu. XD**

**Brook that ripples in breeze - Haha, very cool! I kind of would like to have two different colored eyes if only for bragging rights. XD**

**Before The Winter's Dawn - Hooo, coolies~! Mine's from a Breaking Benjamin song that I like. X3 Even busier next semester! I signed up for sixteen credit hours! And two workshops! And I have to get a REAL job! D: But I need something to have fun writing, don't I? ;)**

**Mintheart - Haha! Then there shall be! :D**

**theDiabolical - I _cease_ to amaze you? Then I shall simply have to try harder. Total jk. XD **

**Tangleflame - Kits? Hmm...perhaps. :3**

**Rapidfeather - Hello, new reviewer~! Woooooooow, lots of praise~ -sparkly eyes- You liked this story that much? -very pleased- Ohhh, reading my other stuff? Hahaha, good luck with thaaaaat. Please don't blame me for the older stuff: I knew not what I was doing! XD**

**squirrelheart - Heehee~! -very pleased- **

**tufted titmouse - And after all that, I didn't even get shortcake. I got done at like midnight and that's too late to eat dessert! -major sadface- Though I made up for it today by eating pound cake and whipped cream. X3**

**artemis7337 - Haha, I don't think you even _need _skills. I don't have them and I managed to make one. Perhaps I can make it my profile picture or something so I can show it off. His eye is a little wonky and his tail is crooked but he's very plushy. X3 Hee! I didn't want Twist to have to bloody her paws, so to say, for the second time and I mentioned a looooong time ago that Lightfoot was there...so it all worked out. XD I try to keep it light on the moments so they don't get overdone. You must tell me if they stop becoming good. XD And pine no longer, Artemis! Here it is! XD**

**the lone geisha - Sure am! Floridian, born and bred! Though I dislike orange juice and sunshine... I must have some of my dad's Chicago blood in me. X3**

**Gooooooosh, so many reviews. I'm getting a little spoiled from all the love from you guys. Together, let's reach 300 reviews! I think I would totally die of happiness if I reached 300 reviews. Srsly. I might have to offer a prize or something. A oneshot for whoever gets the 300th review or something. X3**

**Anyway, enough of that.**

**Onto the story!**

* * *

Leaving the healing den, Declan and Twist rushed through the tunnel, ducking beneath blows and yowls alike, sidestepping the fury of cats too beyond looking to see who they were fighting. It was a frenzy, madness. No cat was unscathed from this battle.

Declan broke free from the tunnel first, falling back until Twist was at his side once more. "Are you okay?" he asked, breathless.

She nodded. The cut on her lip—accidentally bestowed upon her by a pent-up Kite—was bleeding, dripping down onto one of the lightning-like white marks on her face, staining it scarlet. "I'm fine." She licked her lips, wrinkling her nose at the taste of her own blood. "You're bleeding too, you know," she said, with a little more snappishness than usual.

Declan was a little taken aback. Even when she was upset, Twist never spoke to him like that. Not since the first few days when they had only just met. "I'm just worried for you."

"I know." She took a deep breath, lowering her voice. "But you don't need to be, okay? I'm fine. You don't have to stress yourself out worrying over me." She went to walk away, her tail low and sweeping the ground.

Declan just stared at her. _Did I do something wrong? _He didn't remember doing anything to upset her. Could she still be upset about her father's death? Was that it?

And despite what he had told her earlier, a sour pit of bile rose in his throat when he thought about it, Braiser's body. He didn't think he would ever be able to get that image out of his head, of the broken tom destroyed even further, soaking in his own blood, his eyes sightlessly staring upwards, curved in terror.

Declan shivered.

Twist had gone on ahead, taking a Claw guard by surprise. She leapt on his back and sank her teeth into his neck, making him screech in pain and surprise. A moment later, Declan saw why she had done it: the tom had Ink pinned beneath his claws.

Declan rushed forward to help but Twist had it covered. Her claws deeply curved into the Claw's pelt, she worried at his ears with her fangs, shrieking furiously into his face. The guard shook, leaping up in the air and twisting around, but he could not shake her.

Ink got shakily to his paws, one side of his face soaked with blood. Blinking it out of his eyes, he looked up at Declan, momentarily confused. "You? I attacked you earlier!"

"I know. It's okay now. I'm a friend." He hadn't known Ink very well during his time in the Sliders but he did like his brothers, Ren and Pip. The three toms, black as night, had been among those who had come erupting up out of the ground like a nest of angry ants. They were the ones who had fought so viciously for the Sliders.

Ink nodded. "I know. I'm sorry that I got you before. You smelled like the Claws, you know." He was more alert now, the concentration sliding back into his blue eyes.

Twist joined them, out of breath and with fur ruffled: she had fought off the guard and sent him howling into the woods. "How are we doing out here?" she asked Ink.

He shook his head. "Not as good as Lucky wants us to. We've lost a few already. Ginger got caught off guard by a guard and they…they got her. Snow, too, and Jay."

Declan let out a soft sound of distress. "And the Claws?"

Ink's eyes hardened. "Similar losses."

Declan felt a rather horrible twist of pleasure. _As long we we're suffering, they should be suffering, _was his first thought, though he was immediately repulsed by it. He shouldn't be wishing ill-will on any cat, especially not his enemies. That just meant he was on the same level as they were.

And Declan detested the thought of himself sinking that low—not ever again.

Ink hissed, his ears flattening as he looked at something over Declan's shoulder. "Get back to the fight. I have some more fur to rip." He pushed past him, his paws flying over the ground. He pounced on a Claw guard so hard they both tipped backwards, tumbling into the paws of another battling pair.

Twist jerked to follow but Declan stopped her. "That's Ink's fight. We have to find Audrey, remember?"

Twist bared her teeth. "I know. But we can't just—"

"We have our objective. You really want to let Kite down? I wouldn't really want to see her mad, would you?"

Twist cringed, obviously imagining it. "No."

"Good." He licked her ear quickly, not missing how she tried to twitch it out of his reach. What was going on with her? Hiding his hurt feelings, he said, "Come on. She has to be around here somewhere."

The battle was still raging even as the sun peeked beyond the horizon, spilling red-orange light across the ground, sending long shadows through the Warren like black branches. Declan ducked as a Claw guard flew in front of him, claws splayed for attack, but he soared over his head, aiming for the cat behind Declan: Ren, Ink's brother. The tom hit Ren with the force of a boulder falling but Ren matched it, fighting him back, sending him to the ground.

All around, the Sliders were gaining the advantage. Marco and Max, still together, had Midnight—Sorrow's captain—pinned. They were ripping pawfuls of fur from his pelt, laughing as he tried to escape, dodging the slashes of his hindpaws. Zib, one of Declan's former Claw guard acquaintances, was being cornered by Iggy and Kent, with Pip rushing to join them.

And out of all of them came rushing up a tiny white she-cat, mostly untouched save for the terror in her bright blue eyes. "Twist!" she cried.

Twist's eyes widened. "Vivian!" She sprang towards the much smaller she-cat, rubbing her muzzle quickly with hers. "You're alive! Thank the stars! I haven't seen you since—"

"Twist, everything is going so wrong," she was squeaking, shaking all over like a baby bird. "I can't find anybody! I tried to fight, I really did, but I don't know how and I was just—" She let out a little mewl, her eyes squeezing shut.

Sounding very, very gentle, Twist said, "Vivian, go down that metal tunnel. At the very bottom, there's a hole in the ground. You'll find a cat named Kite there. Tell her I sent you. You can stay down there and protect the kits. Listen, Vivian—no, listen!" she insisted when Vivian protested. "You have to. I can't be worrying that you'll be hurt out here. Go and find Kite. She'll protect you."

Vivian's eyes were full of fear. "What about you?"

Twist curved her lips wryly. "Don't worry about me. Just get to safety!"

Vivian pushed her nose into Twist's fur once more and was gone.

"A friend?" Declan asked her. Then it hit him. "That's one of the workers. I know her."

"She and Kip were the only ones I liked there," Twist told him, her eyes roving around behind him, not meeting his. "I don't know where Kip is either. I hope she's okay." Then she hissed, eyes narrowing in furious recognition. Declan turned to follow her gaze.

Bronze, Declan saw with a start, was wrestling with Viktor now, teeth bared, claws flashing. Declan hadn't realized the Rogue's favorite son had joined the battle—he must have come along when the Rogue had.

Twist saw him, too. She drew her lips back from her teeth, leaping forward to join Viktor, shoving her way between them until her claws were embedded in Bronze's fur. He yowled, long and loud, as her claws met skin.

"Where's the Rogue?" she demanded in a yowl. When he said nothing, she curled her claws deeper. "Where is he? Tell me!"

Bronze hissed in her face, his ears pinned to his skull. Casting her a dark, furious look, he exposed his fangs.

Declan rushed up and joined Twist, his hackles up.

Bronze's marked eyes widened when he saw Declan. "Well well. It's _you_. Traitor."

"You can't be a traitor if you were brainwashed," Declan snarled.

Bronze chuckled, low in his throat. "I suppose so. Though I still don't care for your threats. And what is this? Three on one? That seems fair. It appears that the Sliders have learned their fighting tactics from alley cats with no morals."

"Where is the Rogue?" Twist growled again, forcing her face so close to his that their whiskers brushed.

Wincing one eye closed as her whisker prodded it, Bronze said, "It's too late for Snit. He's dead."

Viktor, recovering from the fight, rejoined the argument now. "We already know that. The Rogue will pay dearly for it."

Bronze laughed again, louder this time. "You think that Snit was a hero, do you? Well, he wasn't. He was a traitor for both sides. Nothing saved him in the end. He was killed because of his cowardice." He narrowed his eyes to dark, multicolored slits. "I hope he lost his way to the stars. I hope he wanders in the darkness forever."

Declan was sickened; it was the worst insult that a cat could tell another, in his experience with the Sliders. Once, in his very first few days here, he had heard a young cat tell another that. He had gotten his ears boxed soundly by his mother and a firm scolding from both Lucky and Wisp.

Viktor, similarly outraged, flashed out a paw. He caught Bronze by the throat, pushing him into the dirt, grinding his face into the dust until Bronze yowled in pain. Forcing all his weight on Bronze's throat, Viktor growled darkly, "You are going to tell me where the Rogue is or I swear on my kits' lives I will stand here and watch you die."

Bronze, eyes bugging out of his head, bared his teeth, though more in panic now than in cynicism. "Alright," he choked out and Viktor released him. Bronze rolled to his side, getting his front paws beneath him, his hind legs still splayed out behind him. He retched for a moment, taking deep breaths in through his crushed throat, then turned his loathing, watery eyes on them. "What do you want to know?"

"I think it's been made perfectly clear what we want." Twist pulled her claws out of Bronze's chest, leaving behind bloody punctures in his dirty fur.

Bronze shot her a dirty look. "The master is here, somewhere in the Warren. I might have led the charge in here but he's the one who directed me to." He laughed then, the sound shaky. "If things are getting bad, be assured he will make a run for it. My father is many things—including a coward. He came to get revenge and he did, partially anyway. Snit's dead. My father is appeased for now. He'll go back to the cliffs and—"

"And consult his little friend Braiser?" Twist said tauntingly, surprising Declan once again with the hate and revulsion in her voice. "Too bad. He's dead."

And now Bronze looked truly shocked. "That's impossible."

"It's true. I know. I watched him die."

"You're wrong!" Bronze spat. "Braiser is the most protected cat in the entire Claw ranks. No one even knows about him! How could you, a stupid little she-cat, know about him?"

"Don't worry how," Declan said disparagingly. "All you need to know is that he's dead. So go on and find your master. Tell him that we're looking for him. If he tries to run, we'll alert the Sliders and he'll be dead before he makes it up the hill."

"You're looking for a fair fight?" Bronze asked sardonically. "You won't get one. My father is a master at fighting. He's the one who trained every cat in the Claws."

"Well, I think we've fought enough Claws by now to know how they battle," Viktor pointed out, his eye flashing. "Now get. If I see you here again, I won't hold back."

Bronze bared his teeth, sliding up onto all four paws. With one last glare between them, he vanished up over a box-nest and was gone.

Viktor sighed. "All these Claws. They're all the same—spewing the same rubbish."

"You have no idea," Declan muttered.

"Yes, you are speaking about smoke treatment, are you not?" Lucky came padding up, looking affable as ever despite his increasingly evident unkemptness; it was like the battle had brought out an entirely new Lucky, one who had finally opened up into a real cat. At his side was Lightfoot, looking as edgy and dangerous as he looked composed. "I have heard much of the story from Lightfoot here." He turned to her, remorseful. "I am sorry that I did not invest more time in finding you, Lightfoot. I sincerely apologize for my actions. I was thinking only of myself. I know better now. Will you accept my request for forgiveness?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Lightfoot was all business now, her eyes darting around the Warren.

Lucky looked delighted. He turned to Declan then, who unconsciously took a step backwards. To see Lucky this animated was rather…disarming.

"Declan, I believe this is the first time I have spoken to you since you returned from the Claws. How are you today?"

"Uh…fantastic." Declan didn't know what to say. He was still reeling from Lucky's sudden liveliness.

"That is good to hear," Lucky said cordially.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way," Lightfoot said roughly, "can we get back to the fight?"

"Oh, yes. Let us go and fight once more. Declan and Twist, I must tell you: I have never felt more alive than in this moment."

"That's great to hear, Lucky," Twist said, her whiskers twitching.

"I am being serious," he insisted firmly.

"Oh, no, we believe you," Declan said. "Trust me."

Lucky nodded, his dark eyes flashing. "Then will you accompany me to find my brother? It appears that he is also in need of a sound lashing. Or, as they say—"

"A beat-down?" Twist supplied helpfully.

Lucky blinked. "I was going to say, a brawl. But I suppose 'beat-down' would also suffice in this situation. Come now. It will be easy to tempt the Rogue out into the open if I make my presence more apparent." He took off, following after Lightfoot, who charged head-first into the fray like a diving hawk, knocking cats aside as if they weighed no more than fallen leaves.

After a shared, brief look of amusement, Declan and Twist followed him.

Lucky lead them right into the open middle section of the Warren, past the box-nests and the metal pipe, past the huge stacks of no-pelt machine paws and rubbish, to where the ground was hard-packed from fighting. He stood there for a moment, surveying the cats still fighting, then cleared his throat. "My fellow cats—"

"They can't hear you," Lightfoot spat. "You need to be louder."

"Oh," Lucky said, looking a bit surprised. "I believe I can be louder." He straightened, standing as tall as he could, then said in a mildly annoyed voice, "If I could have your attention, please. I have something to say."

"Louder!" Lightfoot hissed.

Lucky whipped his head around, catching sight of an unusually large machine paw. Hopping up on top of it, he said in the loudest voice Declan had ever heard him use, "If everyone would stop fighting for just a moment, I would like to speak!"

"_Shut up!"_ Lightfoot yowled in addition.

At once, the battle stopped. Cats of both sides stared up at Lucky, their mouths hanging open in the same astonishment Declan felt on his own face.

"Thank you," Lucky said politely. To Twist and Declan, standing just below, he noted, "That was rather difficult. I am not used to being ignored like that. Tell me, is that what you feel, Twist, when you try and speak to another cat?"

Looking rather insulted at that, Twist said, "No."

"Interesting." Lucky turned back to the crowd. He suddenly seemed to realize just how many cats were there; his tail flicked behind him nervously. "I would like to say just a few things before you restart your fighting, if that would be alright."

"Who is this kook?" Declan heard a Claw guard mutter to the cat next to him.

"I am not a kook," Lucky assured him seriously. "In fact, I am Lucky, the leader of the Sliders. I would just like to say that if there is a cat out there whom is trying to kill me—I will not name names—you are now aware of my position." He turned to Declan and whispered, "Did you hear me say 'I will not name names?' That was for dramatic effect. In reality, these cats do know the name of the cat who is trying to kill me. It is the Rogue."

"Yes, I think we all understood that, Lucky," Lightfoot said disparagingly.

"Oh good. I was afraid that it would not be unambiguous enough." He coughed, clearing his throat again, and added to the crowd, "Let me repeat. I am Lucky. The leader of the Sliders. I just wanted to make that fact clear. I will stand upon this machine paw and watch as you continue your battle. If one among you wishes to come and try to kill me, perhaps because of a personal vendetta, I believe this would be the opportune time. I will continue to remain in this position just in case the thought crosses your mind. Thank you for your attention. You may resume your fighting now."

The crowd of cats looked bewildered. They exchanged glances, clearly unsure what to do.

Lightfoot, always to be relied upon in a fight, stalked forward, a growl rising in her throat, and barreled into the nearest guard. With an ear-splitting yowl, the fight began again.

Lucky surveyed the battle with clinical interest. "That was successful, I believe. They have listened to what I have to say. That is very good."

"Now we just wait for the Rogue to make his appearance."

"Yes," Lucky agreed distantly. His eyes flicked across the sea of cats, fixing on one here and there, no doubt looking for his brother. "Tell me, Declan, are you aware of the danger in which we have placed ourselves? The Rogue is a very conniving fighter. Once, long ago, he attempted to force me to fight him. I did not, and I never regretted it. Wisp explained to me that it was imperative I stay alive. I have never once questioned her." He turned, eyes very dark in his face. "Tell me, Declan, did I make the correct choice? Was I wrong to favor my own life over the lives of others? Was it wrong that I wanted to survive just as much as the cats who I command? Tell me."

Twist spoke then, softly. "It's not wrong to want to save yourself. But when cats become more important to you, you have to put them before yourself."

Declan didn't look over at her but he knew what her face would look like. When they had first met, Twist had shown a fierce protection for her own life, explaining that her gang had always forced that reason upon her. Over time, slowly, she had begun to change. She had been more open with him, more trusting. More of the cat she was today: a fierce, smart, dedicated, beautiful she-cat.

And Declan loved her for it, more achingly and powerfully than he had ever loved anyone or anything.

He loved her so much it scared him.

He loved her so much he thought he would die if anything happened to her.

He had known that for a long time, though, he mused as he looked out over the battle. The very first day he met her he had wanted to be next to her. No one's light burned as strongly as Twist's did. No cat was so enduringly loyal to other cats than her. She was everything that Declan thought a true warrior was, everything a cat could be.

Everything he wanted to be.

Twist said, "We can't stay here forever. Snit told me that he had wounded the Rogue. What if he's already escaped?"

"If I still know the cat that was once my brother," Lucky said distantly, "he will not run. He is around here somewhere, I am confident of it. We just need a little more time. He will make himself known soon." Then his voice lowered. "I was not aware that Snit was what he was but I admire him for it. It takes a lot of, I believe the word is, _guts_ to accomplish what he did. I am thankful that he chose to stand by the Sliders and die for us. He was a courageous cat. I will grieve for him."

Declan thought that Lucky seemed genuine, but it was always so difficult to tell—especially now in this near-manic atmosphere he was giving off.

Twist, half-hidden behind the machine paws, was silent again. Her eyes were misted over, unfocused. With memories? Regrets? Declan didn't know and he certainly didn't want to ask her. She had been in a weird mood ever since Braiser had been killed and he didn't want to put any more pressure on her. She had to expect it was coming soon anyway—the end.

Declan wasn't sure he was ready for it.

Lightfoot reappeared. "Lucky, come quick," she hissed. "He's trying to escape!"

Lucky's eyes widened minutely. "Oh my," he said quietly. "I was so convinced he would stay and fight. I was so looking forward to it." He leapt to the ground lithely, landing evenly on all four paws. When he straightened, he set his jaw. "But now I will have to be the pursuer, I suppose. Come, Lightfoot. I believe you will assist me excellently. Twist, Declan, I would like your presence as well. And Viktor also. I must apologize to him. I have been very callous towards him. He is, after all, my oldest and dearest companion."

"You mean best friend," Declan aided.

Lucky nodded. "Yes, best friend. My comrade. Buddy. Pal."

"Please, for the love of everything pure and good in this world, just stop it. You're going to make me vomit." Lightfoot rolled her eyes for effect. "You were so much more bearable when your voice was a monotone."

They ran back up the channel of cats who had now stopped once again. Claws on one side, Sliders on the other. Jeers and hisses met them, mixed in with cries of triumph and encouragement. Lucky ignored the Claws completely, even as one lashed out and clawed a pawful of fur from his shoulder. Lucky didn't even blink at the cat, whom Lightfoot quickly taught a lesson.

Declan spied Viktor in the lines and nodded to him. The huge gray tabby fell in step beside Lucky, whispering into his ear—the one now marked with his first scar of battle. Declan thought he had never seen the two of them look so…close. Viktor had always kept his distance from Lucky in the Sliders but now it was like they understood each other, finally.

Declan narrowed his eyes against the onslaught of venomous words.

As soon as they passed, the battle began again, snapping back like an adder attack. Like a wave breaking, crashing, the sound of ripping fur in the air and the taste of blood on the wind.

The exit to the Warren was blocked by four Claw guards. Their heads were lowered in malice, marked eyes glittering. Other Sliders had gathered around Lucky by now—Pop and Lenny, Ink, his brothers, Iggy. Max and Marco were waiting by the side, their eyes alight, with Kent standing just above them on a machine paw. They flowed down off their perches, flying across the ground on quick paws, to fill in the space around their leader.

Lucky took to the front as the guards ducked further to the ground, pelts bristling. "I presume you are here to prevent me from leaving?"

The one in charge, a large and rather ugly red tom, growled, "That's right."

"I will have you ask you to step aside now. Or I will allow my friends here to do injury unto you."

They laughed even though they were clearly outnumbered. "Come and get it, then," the tom snarled.

Lucky leapt forward, Lightfoot outpacing him like a jolt of lightning. The guards fell back to the outside of the gate, surprising Declan, who had been aiming for the one with a limp flanking the red tom. On the outside, still wet from the continuing rain and slicked flat by battling, he realized a moment too late at how the tempting thought of battle had clouded their reason.

Standing outside by the fence was another, larger group of Claw guards. They fell upon the Sliders as if they were prey.

Declan screeched as teeth met in his ear, ripping back out of the grip of a sharp-clawed guard. Blindly, he struck out with his forepaws, hitting fur then flesh then bone as he applied pressure, sinking the guard down into the mud and using his superior body weight to hold him there. He sank his teeth into the enemy's throat, clenching his jaws and refusing to budge.

Claws stung his back, white-hot pain streaking down his spine, and he whirled to see the same ugly tom. His eyes, marked yellow and green, glittered in the dawn's light. "You Sliders will never learn!" he hissed, digging his claws deeper into Declan's back.

Wrenching his head free of the other's grasp, Declan turned on the red tom, bringing both forepaws down like stones on his head. The tom let out a grunt of surprise, his eyes momentarily losing their focus, but he shook it off, rolling his muscled shoulders and repositioning his paws.

"Second group, move in!" he shrieked and now Declan saw that the other guards had held back from the four original ones, despite Lucky's best efforts to tempt one into fighting.

That was when Declan realized he recognized the cat in the lead of the other group: Kaltag. Behind him spread the other cats with clear, angry eyes fixed right on the Claw guards. Judging from Kaltag's raised tail and Lightfoot's cackle of hard delight, these must have been the rest of the smoke-treated Claws, returned to their senses.

The golden tom was frowning, his mud pelt remaining only in sticky stripes along his face. "No," he said, his voice lacking the tremble Declan had heard before. "We're done helping the Claws!" He turned to the cats behind him, nearly a dozen, and he cried, "Come on! Fight for the Sliders!" He launched himself forward, aiming right for the red tom, and bowled him off his paws. The tom didn't even have a chance to screech in surprise before Kaltag's teeth were in his throat.

The others threaded through Lucky, pushing him back, protecting him with their bodies.

"Go!" Kaltag was suddenly in front of Declan, eyes wide. "Go now! The Rogue ran along the edge of the brook up towards the cliffs! Hurry before he escapes! We'll hold down the rest here! Go!"

"Thank you," Declan said breathlessly; Lucky was already off, leading the group away, but Twist stayed behind, though she took mincing steps in Lucky's direction, eyes on Declan. "I owe you for this, Kaltag."

Kaltag looked away, marked eyes lowered. "I'll owe you forever for helping me, Declan. Don't you worry about this little thing. I'll never repay you enough."

Declan didn't know what to say to that. Throat a little thick, he nodded and was off again.

"Those kinds of things come in handy, don't they?" Twist murmured.

Declan said nothing. He pushed his nose into her fur, soaking in her scent and feeling it strengthen his body.

The rain kept up a steady rhythm, falling into Declan's eyes as he ran, chest burning, muscles aching. All at once, the entirety of that day, of the moment since Twist was snatched by the Rogue's cats, fell onto his shoulders. He nearly buckled under its crushing weight. He was tired, so tired. He just wanted to lay down and sleep and sleep until he felt strong again, in control once more.

Though, as that fire—that infernal fire—burned in the back of his mind, clouding his tongue with the taste of smoke, he didn't believe he could ever be in control again.

Lucky was just ahead, his rain-darkened fur looking nearly black in the half-light. Viktor muscled just alongside him, strong as usual, with Lightfoot on the other side. In a way, Lightfoot reminded him remarkably of Sorrow—they had the same long, slender bodies, the same narrow heads and small, pointed ears. The same feral ferocity hidden just behind their beautiful faces. Lightfoot terrified him just as much as Sorrow did, perhaps more, since he had seen first-account what she could do with just her claws and fangs.

Lightfoot was the first to spot him. Letting out an ear-piercing yowl, she took off ahead, kicking up mud with her hind paws. Like a diving hawk, she ripped through the long, soaked grass, her paws catching every hold to push her forward, and tackled him.

Spinning end over end, Lightfoot and the Rogue snarled, battling, fighting, shredding, tearing. Declan could already smell the scent of blood as the rest of the group caught up to her.

"Lightfoot," Lucky said sternly, as if he was scolding a kit.

She sprang away at once, circling back behind Lucky, her suddenly-dark eyes not leaving the Rogue's ripped face; she had laid one side open to the bone, glinting wetly beneath a stark coating of blood.

His eye half-closed and his chest heaving, the Rogue said, "Well, if it is not Lucky. How have you been today? Are you enjoying the fight which you have caused?"

"I am, in fact," Lucky said casually. "I do take pleasure in this newfound loyalty to my group. I have found that only through protecting another can one feel completely satisfied with one's own life. Do you have a similar understanding?"

"No," the Rogue said gutturally.

"Such a shame." Now Lucky's cool dark eyes traveled over the Rogue's face thoughtfully. "You could have been such a good cat. Why would you waste such intellect as yours on a group of cats whom you have militarized? Why did you not allow them to speak their minds? Why did you lock them so deeply within themselves that they forgot everything it means to be a warrior?"

"Because," the Rogue growled. "It is better that I command their loyalty through fear than through any other means. Respect is what I should have as leader; it is not something that I should have to gain. I am their better. I should be the commander."

"That's why you had Braiser, is it?" Twist demanded.

The Rogue's face contorted unnaturally then. "I see that you learned the secrets of the Claws from that disgusting little insect Snit. He believed that it would be best to trust that knowledge to a pair of young fools? Do not worry about Braiser. You will never set eyes upon him."

"No one will," Declan said. "At least, not alive."

The Rogue's eyes widened, his lip twitching. "What is the meaning of such nonsense?"

"He's dead," Lightfoot said harshly. "I killed him. You should have seen him, how he begged for his life. How he swore to divulge more secrets if I allowed him to live. How he screamed when I killed him."

The Rogue's teeth were fully bared now. "I knew you were never fully mine. He believed otherwise. That is why I allowed you to remain. Filthy she-cat, I will make sure your fur litters the ground before anyone speaks another word to you."

"Is that the best that you have?" Lucky asked him.

The Rogue blinked. "What?"

"I only mean that the insult you just spoke was a little…uninspired. I would expect a much better retort from you. It appears your thirst for blood has addled your brains."

The Rogue looked incredulous. "What new development is this? Has your heart defrosted now, my brother?"

"I would not be calling me a brother if I were you," Lucky advised him. "I have come here to kill you, you must understand. I would have expected you to come and fight me yourself, as was your goal, but it appears now I put too much stock into your actions. You are a coward as much as your kits."

"Do not bring them into this."

"Then do not slight my cats in front of me. They are worth ten each of your kits." He puffed out his chest. "They have taught me the meaning of true loyalty this night. Before tonight, I did not know just how much they meant to me. The Sliders are a proud group, you see. We will not be easily beaten by you and your cats. We are not afraid of you."

Coiled on the ground, back arched and hackles raised, the Rogue spat, "You should be very afraid of us!"

"I do not believe I can feel fear for a group that takes orders from a mad mountain cat."

"And what of you and Wisp?" the Rogue hissed. "Is that not the same thing?"

"Perhaps it once was. But Wisp is no longer a part of the leadership of the Sliders."

Declan's mouth dropped open. When had _that _happened?

The Rogue looked similarly stunned. "You have cast her out of the Warren?"

"No. She remains, though her power is significantly limited as of now. We have spoken briefly of it. She is getting on in seasons regardless." Lucky sounded like he was choosing his words particularly, and Declan wondered just how much of that speech was true.

The Rogue seemed not to care. "And you somehow believe that makes you as good as I am?"

"Oh, I would not be so generous as to call you 'good,'" Lucky said seriously. "I would go more for 'dark and twisted evil most foul' if I was being honest. However, I can lie if you wish it. I am very good at it, much to my newfound shame. I understand that you are the same."

Teeth bared, the Rogue got to his paws slowly. "So this is how it is going to end?" he demanded, his voice a sharp rasp. "You are going to sic your group on me? Then come at me. I am not so afraid to fight. If I die, I will die fighting on my paws."

Lucky's eyes gleamed at that. "As honorable as your words are, you must know that I believe not a single word. You are a dirty coward. You will flee at the first mention of a fight."

"Then what do you suggest?" His lips twisted. "Or do you plan on talking me to death? I understand that that is your specialty."

"I suggest a simple fight—clean and fair." He stepped forward, tail curling over his back. "One-on-one. The winner gets command of both groups."

Viktor hissed in shock. "Lucky, are you insane?"

"Not the last time I checked, I believe. My mind is intact." His eyes didn't move from his brother's. "Are we agreed?"

The Rogue bared his teeth. "One-on-one? That is agreeable to me."

"So you accept the terms of my battle?"

"Yes," the Rogue growled.

"Well then." Lucky padded forward, leaving the rest of the group behind. "Stand back," he commanded them and Declan, a little to his own surprise, hurried to follow Lucky's orders. "No Slider is to interfere with this fight." He turned to his brother, dark eyes seeming blacker than usual. "On your word, my tragic, broken, former brother."

The Rogue walked stiffly forward, marked eyes radical in the dawn's light as they ever were. He licked his lips, fangs bared and glistening.

"Begin."

* * *

**Guys, have you heard of Ingrid Michaelson? I don't generally like indie music but goooooooooosh, she's so good. -starry eyes-**

**Also, I won't be updating untiiiiiiiil...uhh, Monday. I'm going over to my grandma's again. So the chapters will be written, just not posted. I may write two or three while I'm over there if I get the chance. So look forward to that. X3**

**I love you guys. You totally rock. **

**Now I have to go to bed 'cause I have to get up at nine tomorrow. NINE. It's like my mother doesn't understand that I'm a white-bread-pale shut-in hopeful-authoress honing her craft. I can't wake up at nine! And go _outside? _MADNESS!**

**Not to mention this "heat dome" or whatever is making the outside hot like whoa. I took my dogs out and ran them around for like five minutes and I was sweating. It sucked, man. SUCKED.**

**Now that I'm done with my whining, have a good day. :D Er, night, I guess. Unless you're not an American, which I guess a lot of you guys aren't, judging by my story stats. That's pretty cool, I must say. XD**

**Anyway. For realz now.**

**You know what to do.**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	30. Chapter 30

**Heeeeeey~! Back from my mini-vacation. I swear, I love going to my grandma's house. She does spoil me so. XD**

**Queen Of The Pens - Hee! I'm glad~ I do love him so. XD**

**XxJabberjayxX - I know, poor Declan. Silly little boy. They really are thick sometimes, aren't they? (No offense, male readers)XD I have heard of that show! I saw a commercial for it and I was like "Aaaaahhh! That looks good!" but I never watched it. I'm very fond of Teen Wolf and The Glee Project, though. EVEN THOUGH MY FAVORITE QUIT YESTERDAY. D: -minor meltdown- **

**Blazingstar of ThunderClan - Aaaw, I feel you. I've been pretty depressed lately, too. But you must remember, if you're feeling down, to know that talking it out with people really does help. Also, writing agonized death scenes does, too! XD -thinks Snit thoughts- I love Declan's name too! I was thinking out some main character names for the sequel - which is currently still unnamed - and I thought to myself, "Must needs find another one like Declan." Holly is a beautiful name! I myself am now partial to the name Spiro (like spear-o not spy-ro like the dragon) after watching Staten Island Cakes. -unashamed reality tv watcher- **

**LegendaryHero - Two to three weeks' wait! Pssh, I never make it that long during the summer! Maybe...maybe once. Or twice. XD I've been thinking out some new ideas for the sequel and I've got a pretty sketchy-like plot in mind. Still in the simple stages - new characters, big plot threads, stuff like that - but coming along! Lucky's always had a more complicated speech pattern than the rest of the cats - he doesn't use contractions, he has a much larger vocabulary - and always has; perhaps it seems like he's overdoing it because this is the most spotlight he's gotten in, like, twenty chapters. XD Or, perhaps again, Lucky is a metaphor for the suppressed id of the individual-powered leader, held back by the bourgeois of this community. Or maybe I just overdid it because I like to use big words. XD I prefer to think the former.**

**Amazingly Awesome Person - You like the Shredder? :O I tried to make him like, that arrogant muscle-shirt-wearing jock of the cliche high school. The one who brags about all of his accomplishments, rubbing your nose in his own golden glory. Nooooot that I've had experience with that or anything. -shifty eyes- Escalators are backwards outside of America too? I've never been to Australia but I went to Britain and I almost DIED crossing the road. I forgot you have to look left-right-left and not right-left-right and almost got smeared into a little bloody patch of Shadow. How tragic would that have been? And before I had even gotten to taste bangers and mash! Or fish and chips! (Chips is also funny to American-me because "chips" here are crisps to them, and "crisps" mean nothing to Americans.) Haha! It must pain you everytime I say "organize" and "realize," then. Silly Americans and our love of the letter Z. XD **

**Before The Winter's Dawn - Dude, truer words have never been spoken: I am also better at writing than learning. XD I saw! All of America is basically dying of this "heat dome" thing. Not to mention our debt ceiling crisis or whatever the heck that was all about. At least it's all over and the news will shut up about it now. XD Only if your dog can understand Lucky-speak. Honestly, I don't think even Twist and Declan know what he's talking about most of the time! XD **

**tufted titmouse - I imagine him talking in a very level, even tone. Like, monotone. And also kinda medium-pitched. But now that I think of it, he could totally have a British accent! XD**

**theDiabolical - Haha! No problem! I do love teasing reviewers so. XD Yes! Very redonkulous! XD**

**artemis7337 - I swear, everytime I write your penname, I always put the wrong numbers. -has a very dyslexic brain- Everyone keeps saying how British Lucky is! Perhaps he is after all and I didn't even mean to do it! XD I am a very fast writer, but unfortunately, my brain doesn't really keep up. So I have to keep going back and fixing stuff. This chapter was particularly bad with that, so it might be fraught with typos. XD**

**Icestar0921 - Haha! You think my charming presence won't keep them coming back for more? X3**

**squirrelheart - Heehee~! Your comment made me giggle with glee. X3 I'm so glad you like this story so much!**

**SoccerGeek7699 - Heehee! Silly Twist, being all unknowing and awkward. She needs a slap upside the head! And it's okay, because I too love exclamation points and smilies. :D See? X3 I just did it again! XD **

**Ravenshade - Whoaaaaaa. ALL of them? :O That is some serious dedication! I...I don't know what to say. You're quite brave for pushing through Sunrise. XD That was the first thing I ever wrote, in all my of writingness. I just sat down at my computer one day and wrote the first chapter; no inclination for writing ever struck me before. So it was a little...rough. Hopefully Sidestep is a bit better. XD A fellow Floridian? FLORIDA HIGH-FIVE! -high-fives- And that is a very apt description of Disney. XD I myself prefer Islands of Adventure, especially now that they've added in the Wizarding World. I swear, it must have been downright embarrassing to go with me - I was with my brother and his girlfriend - but luckily, his girlfriend was just as flippin' excited as I was. XD Haha! Comebacks from reading my ANs? I didn't think I was that witty. XD**

**I seriously do love talking to you guys. It's like having a whooooole bunch of pen pals or something. X3 -very happy-**

**But now:**

**Onto the story!**

* * *

"Begin." It wasn't the Rogue's voice.

It was Audrey's.

She stepped forward from behind him, her pelt slicked flat from rainwater. Her green eyes glowed dully in her eyes like reflective stones. Her ears were flattened against her head, her tail moving in quick, short lashes behind her. Her paws were thick with brook mud. Twist thought she had never seen a cat look so miserable.

The Rogue's eyes widened when he saw her. "What is this?" he asked, a laugh in the undercurrent of his voice.

"You said one-on-one," Audrey said. "I'm one, you're one. I'll take Lucky's place in this battle."

The Rogue turned to Lucky, who was looking at Audrey with a touch of his old calmness. "You will allow this?"

Lucky, in a level voice, said, "You did not say whom you wanted the battle to be against. You assumed that it would be me. I believe that Audrey would prefer it to be her."

And then Twist got it. That's why he had been looking just past the Rogue's shoulder, his eyes on something Twist couldn't see from her perspective. _He planned this from the start of this conversation, _she realized.

Audrey stepped forward again, and Twist saw that her claws were unsheathed. "Or are you too frightened to fight a she-cat?" she hissed.

The Rogue still didn't look like he was taking her seriously. "I cannot fight you," he said contemptuously. "It would be unfair."

"Yes, because you are all about fairness. I forgot," Lucky said blithely.

The Rogue shot him a venomous look. "This she-cat is half my size. I said I would fight one-on-one. Not half-on-one."

"Then I will be the other half."

Twist turned around, eyes widening, as Sorrow strode forward out of the rain, which was whipping up into a second storm, the Shredder and Sparrow at either of her sides. Her eyes were fixed on her father, her pale eyes looking almost the same color in the graying orange light.

The Rogue's lips curled away from his teeth. "Will I have another of my children betray me tonight?" he hissed furiously.

"One of your _true_ children?" Sorrow correct him. "Perhaps." Without looking away from him, she nodded to Sparrow and the Shredder, who reluctantly fell in line behind the Sliders.

Lightfoot snarled at the Shredder as he padded too close. "Back up or I'll take a length out of your tail," she hissed.

The Shredder, looking a little worse for wear with ragged fur and bloody ears, hurried to obey.

Twist kept her eyes on Sparrow as he stood awkwardly beside his gangmate. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, even though he wasn't particularly injured. His eyes flicked to her, locking there for a heartbeat, then away again. His hackles rose with discomfort.

Twist wondered at that only for a moment before she turned back to where Sorrow now joined Audrey's side. She looked a little contemptuous of the ginger she-cat but said nothing else as she turned to face her father.

"One-on-one," she said softly. "Isn't that right, Father?"

The Rogue's fury looked only just tamed for now. He was too far gone to gain total control over it: Twist could see it in the quick lashings of his tail and the way that one lip couldn't seem to stop twitching. "So you are truly on their side, Sorrow?"

"Of course not," she said, such revulsion in her voice that Twist felt a little insulted. "I won't turn my back on the Claws. Not like you did when you were possessed by your obsession with Lucky." She straightened, her eyes growing far colder. "I will be a much greater leader than you ever were, Father."

And now the Rogue's temper truly snapped. Twist could see it build behind his eyes like a great wall of water as he snarled viciously, all reason gone. Just like when he had attacked Snit. "You plan to replace me? You! A filthy little nobody like you? And who will follow you? The Claws belong to me!"

"I will follow her," Sparrow said.

The Rogue didn't even look at him. "You are no longer my son. I have already explained that to you when you let that mountain she-cat go."

Mountain she-cat? Could they be talking about her mother? Twist's heart pounded in her chest like a trapped bird.

Sparrow didn't even blink. "That was seasons ago."

"It does not matter! You still betrayed me! All of my kits betrayed me! First you, then Snit, then Sorrow. All I have left is Bronze!"

"Not even him," Lucky informed him steadily. "He is the one who told us where to find you. You see, all of the Claws desire your departure. It would be for the best if you just left now. Go up into the mountains, my brother. Go join the cats you worship so deeply." Then his voice deepened, his eyes narrowing; Twist had never seen his eyes look so black. "And never come back down."

There was silence for a moment, the only sound in the world the sound of falling rain flecking up off of the stony ground. Behind the Rogue, Twist could hear the rushing of the water from the brook, rising with the storm, lapping up over its banks.

"You think I will just leave the group I so carefully cultivated?" The Rogue's voice was taut with disbelief. "You think I will walk away from everything I have ever wanted? My cats are strong, fierce, loyal, to me. Only to me. They will not follow another cat. I have made sure that their minds belong only to _me._"

"Unfortunately, it appears that _my _cats have released those whose minds you have twisted." Lucky spoke up once again. "As such with Lightfoot, the others have been released from your admittedly interesting methods of smoke training. I would have to estimate their numbers at around…perhaps a dozen? Maybe two? And they have begun to fight for my side. So, as you can see, my numbers now outrank your own. Funny how that works, is it not?"

The Rogue looked beyond words. "They cannot be completely turned back to the way they were. Somewhere, deep inside their minds, they will always belong to me."

Twist had to bite back a shocked intake of breath. Her eyes darted to Declan quickly and away. In that brief instant, she had seen all she needed to on his face: uncertainty.

_Could it be that Declan still belongs to the Rogue? _She shuddered away from the thought. Though she couldn't get the image of his eyes glazed over, his expression blank. The look the smoke-treatment left him with. The look he wore whenever he thought of his past. It frightened her more than anything else had, more than the fear of death, more than shadows.

"Enough talk, Father." Sorrow strode forward, sinking into a fight-ready stance, her claws unsheathed. "Let's end this."

Audrey walked to her side, teeth bared. "For the Sliders," she said. "For Snit."

Sorrow rolled her eyes but said nothing.

The Rogue was backing up now, teeth bared. "I can't fight a pair of she-cats," he spat.

"You seem to have become very moral in the past few moments, my brother," Lucky noted. "Could it be that you are finally feeling a bit of guilt for your actions?"

"No," the Rogue snarled. "Never." Now that he was walking more quickly backwards, Twist could see how he was limping, holding himself awkwardly. As he misplaced a paw and winced from the pain of it, Twist could see blood running down his legs.

Snit's words echoed then in her head: "_My master didn't get away from our fight unscathed."_

The Rogue had been almost fatally injured already. Surely it wouldn't take much more to finish him off.

Lucky held the Sliders—plus Sparrow and the Shredder—back with his tail. "This is not our fight any longer," he said calmly.

Viktor hissed, "But Audrey—"

"Is more than capable of handling herself." Lucky's eyes glinted. "She is a brave fighter. She will win this fight yet."

The Rogue heard him. Letting out a furious screech, he turned tail and fled. Audrey, yowling her rage, follow him, Sorrow hot on her tail. Like a wave breaking, the rest of the cats followed them, down the side of the hill, down through the slick grass and thick mud, down to where the brook swelled in its banks. It was thick and turbulent, the bitter gray water swirling into whirlpools.

The Rogue stopped there. Chest heaving, wide marked eyes searching the water, he stood stock-still. He turned when they approached again, his expression suddenly feral.

"Do not come near me!" he screamed. "I will attack any cat that comes near!"

Audrey stood at the crest of the embankment, her claws secured in the wiry grass. "You don't have much longer. Shriek all you like. No one's going to come to your rescue."

He turned on her and hissed, his back arching. Twist could see the blood pooling beneath him on the rock from his quick passage. It dripped sluggishly from his belly onto the ground. There was more leading up to where he had gone.

_He's dying, _Twist thought.

The Rogue backed up again, his paws shaking horribly. His eyes wide and unseeing, he snarled, "Any cat that comes near me will get killed!"

"No one needs to come near you, you daft fool," Sorrow said coldly. "You're already dead."

"I still survive," he argued gutturally. "I will lead the Claws to greatness once more! Together, they and I will rule this forest with fear! The way we have always done! And you, Lucky, my so-called brother, the one our mother preferred, the smarter, the quicker, the all-around better, will be dead too. I will make sure of it. You just wait. Just…just you wait." His legs trembled.

Sorrow made to come down the slope and he backed up again, shrieking. Every twitch and jerk of his body was making his wounds open even more, sending scarlet streaks down onto the wet rock underpaw. The surface was slick with his blood.

"He's going to fall," Declan whispered to her.

Audrey, the coldness suddenly gone from her eyes, seemed to have gotten the same idea. "Come up here where it's higher," she called to the Rogue. "The ground is unstable there."

"Yes, come up there to where you can kill me much more easily? I do not think so." He coiled there on the rock as the rain poured down, surrounding him in a blossom of his own blood.

"I won't kill you. You're…you're very injured." Audrey was blinking quickly. "Come up here and we'll leave you alone."

The Rogue looked deeply mistrustful. "You are out for revenge. I know it. I can almost _smell _your bloodlust. You think I will give in? You think I will surrender myself? You are mistaken." He curled up smaller, his eyes dimming. "I will be alright down here, thank you very much. I do not need assistance. I will survive this."

Sorrow let out an impatient breath. She picked her way down the slope towards her father.

"Wait!" Lucky called, suddenly sounding alarmed. "Wait, Sorrow, do not—"

But it was too late. The Rogue, seeing her coming, recoiled once again, his paws scrabbling across the wet rock. This time, there was no way to stop himself.

The Rogue slipped, his front paws sliding away from underneath him. His jaw hit the rock with a sickening crack, making his eyes go blank. His hind paws, unable to grip onto anything, slid into the water. It caught his pelt, swirling thickly through the mud and fur, grabbing him as quickly as claws.

"No!" Sorrow snarled, leaping for him with splayed, extended claws.

Her claws missed his fur by a kitten-step.

The Rogue's head dipped beneath the water immediately. Twist saw him reappear once, twice, as the current carried him away, then he sank below the waves and did not resurface.

The cats there silently watched as the brook churned and tumbled over itself. The sun came up over the horizon fully now, a dim burning circle, but it did not cut through the dark of the storm.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When they got back to the Warren, the fighting had finally stopped. Cats lay on the ground everywhere, on their sides, their bellies, comforting one another. Twist saw cats everywhere in pain, injured, bleeding, and she felt sick for it.

She could see the Claws in their own corner of the Warren, gathered together. The Sliders directly across from them had set up sentries to protect their wounded. The Sliders that had been smoke-treated were between, accepted by neither Claw nor Slider.

Twist ignored the Claws completely—they were nothing to her now—and headed straight for the Sliders. At first, she thought to herself, _It's over. It's over, now there can be peace. Everyone can be okay now. _But no, that was shattered as soon as she got close and saw that the cats lying on the ground were far too still to be simply sleeping.

Ink, surrounded by Ren and Pip, was immobile on the ground, a gash across his throat. Someone had closed his eyes and he looked so peaceful there that he could have been sleeping. Scotty, the little tom Twist had dug the tunnels with what felt like seasons upon seasons ago, was next to him; he looked even tinier in death.

But the most terrible shock, the worst kick in her gut, came when she saw bloodstained black fur and tired pale eyes: Kip.

Twist was at her side in an instant. "Kip! Wh-what happened? How did you… How is this…" She couldn't speak.

Kip turned her head to face Twist. "Viktor," she whispered in a dry, weak voice.

Twist understood at once. She turned and ran to where the heavy gray tom still stood with Audrey. "Viktor, s…someone needs you. A wounded cat."

Viktor's ears turned forward with interest and he followed without another word. Twist heard his quick intake of breath as he saw Kip. "_Mother_," he said, anguished. He fell beside her, pushing his muzzle against hers. "Mother, I thought… I never knew that—"

"Twist tells me that you have kits," Kip said in a kindly voice, cutting off her son's agonized stuttering. "Tell me about them. Do any of them resemble me?"

"Not in color, but in temperament." Viktor's voice was forcefully cheerful. "My youngest son, Streak, has your easy-going nature."

Kip's eyes drifted shut. "That's good. Go on. Tell me more."

And Viktor continued to talk in long detail about each of his kits, their personalities and colorations, their first preys, their first steps. He went on and on in a soft, gentle voice, his pelt pressed against his mother's, as she simply drifted away to sleep. He didn't stop talking until Kite came over to him, not taking him away from where his mother now lay unmoving, but just sitting next to him, comforting him with her presence alone.

Twist couldn't look. She turned her head away, sickened at the sight. Of all cats, why did it have to be the smaller ones, the weaker? Kip didn't have much time left, she had told Twist, but she could have done so much more. She could have joined the Sliders again. She could have met Viktor's kits and lived happily for a little while longer. Why did she have to go?

Twist closed her eyes. Why did everyone keep dying? Why couldn't she save anyone? She couldn't save Kip or Snit. She couldn't even save little Scotty.

Declan rubbed his shoulder against her, calming her down almost immediately. She turned to him, her cheek resting in his fur, and just looked up at him.

His eyes were soft and still so, so gentle. He was just as devastated by this as she was, she knew without a doubt. It was like she could read it in the green of his eyes.

And suddenly, she felt so stupid for trying to distance herself from him. As if she could ever bear to be apart from him. As if she could ever want that.

She closed her eyes as he brushed her head with his muzzle.

But then it was time to go look for answers. She opened her eyes, already knowing who to seek out first.

"I have something I have to do," she murmured to Declan. "Will you come with me?"

His eyes grew softer as he answered, a little of his old teasing lilt in his voice, "Always."

Sparrow was standing with the Shredder and Sorrow still, who had her head turned away, her pelt drying up into pointy clumps. She didn't look over as Twist approached her brother.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Twist asked Sparrow.

"Can it wait?" he asked. "I have to help Sorrow here."

"It will only take a moment."

Sparrow turned to his sister. "Will you be alright?"

Sorrow didn't even glance over at him, her eyes fixed on one paw, where she kept extending and sheathing her claws. "Just…go."

Sparrow followed Twist a few paces away, out of earshot of the Claw group. "What is it?" he asked. He sounded wary.

"I want to know about the mountain cat you let escape."

His ears flattened. "What does that have to do with anything? Now if you'll excuse me, I have to—"

"It means everything to me," Twist whispered. "Please, Sparrow. You owe me."

"For what?" he challenged.

"For what you helped your father do to the Claws," Twist growled. "And to the Sliders."

For a moment, Sparrow remained rigid, unyielding to Twist's glare. Then his shoulders relaxed, slumping slightly, and his tail curled behind him. "I regret what I helped him do," he whispered. "But that doesn't mean that I'm the same as him. We might share blood, but that's it. You understand me?"

"Perfectly," Twist said. Out of anyone, she thought darkly, she should understand what it was like to share blood with a monster.

Sparrow looked away uneasily. "It was…awhile ago. Several seasons. My father managed to trap one of the mountain cats as she was making her way back up. He had some…inside information…on this specific she-cat. I was high up in the guards then, because of my parentage, and I was actually the one who saw her come in." Something flickered in his eyes. "Spirit."

Twist heard herself take in a sharp breath before she even felt it.

Sparrow's look changed then, very subtly. "She means something to you."

"She's my mother," Twist said, her voice breaking.

Sparrow took that, nodding to himself. "I knew you had something to do with her. The first time I laid eyes on you, you looked just like her. Your fur's a bit different, a bit darker, and those marks on your face aren't the same, but you look just like her still." He looked away. "She was with us for a few moon cycles. Not very long. My father had her secured inside the cliffs, deeply. More deeply almost than—" He cut himself off then, his teeth clamping shut. It looked almost beyond his control, that deeply ingrained practice of keeping secrets. "It was my job to bring her prey. And I did it, faithfully, every day. She begged me to let her go, to release her, and I refused. I was still loyal to my father. I wanted to be a good son. I kept his secrets and he made sure I made it to the top of the group. My mother, she was a mountain cat, too. My father saw the beauty in her and they had me. My brother Bronze was their firstborn. I was in the second litter. He saw something in me that he wanted, he always told me. I knew it wasn't that. I knew it was the mix of marked eyes and mountain blood. You don't even know how much he craved those two traits, Twist.

"But Spirit saw through me. She saw all of my hesitation, all of my doubts in my father's system. She asked me about myself, something I never had the experience of. Everyone wanted to hear about Bronze, not me. I was a weak kit. No one expected anything of me. Spirit made me change…everything. The way I thought about myself. The way I saw things. I never noticed the beautiful things in this world until she opened my eyes. So I repaid her the only way I knew how. I snuck her out in the middle of the night and sent her in the direction of the mountains. She told me she wanted so much to go back up into the mountains and find someone dear to her." He turned to face Twist again, his expression musing. "You really do look just like her, you know. I see so much of her in you."

Twist swallowed hard. "In the direction of the mountains, you said?"

"Yes." He got to his feet, glancing once over to Sorrow, who didn't look at him, then back to Twist. "I can show you the way, if you'd like."

"I'd like that very much." She turned to Declan, feeling her heart beat once more. "My mother could be around here," she whispered.

He purred. "Then let's go and find her."

Twist followed Sparrow down through the Warren, passing by where Sorrow still sat, eyes blank, past the line of injured Claw guards, huddled together for warmth against the chill of the rain, past where Viktor was still grieving over his mother. The kits had been allowed back up out of the healing den and were playing together under the lip of the metal tunnel, unaware of the bloodshed that had nearly ripped their world apart.

Audrey was standing by the Warren's gate. She looked up with hollow eyes as they passed by.

Twist padded up to her hesitantly. "Hey," she said softly.

Audrey stared at Twist for a longer moment than necessary until recognition flooded back into her eyes. "Hey."

"How are you?"

Audrey laughed, the sound very stiff. "The Sliders are safe. That should be good enough, don't you think?"

"That's not what I asked," Twist said quietly.

For a moment, Audrey kept the hardness in her eyes. Then, all at once, it vanished, dropping like a stone into water. "He's dead. Snit. He's never coming back." Her voice cracked on the last word.

Declan, standing next to Twist's shoulder, moved forward and let Audrey bury her nose in his fur. He looked at Twist over the top of Audrey's head, his expression pained. Twist didn't know what to do as her friend grieved for everything she never knew she had and everything she had lost. Twist pressed her muzzle into Audrey's shoulder, trying to comfort her with warmth rather than words, but Twist could feel her trembling.

All too soon, it was time to go.

"I'll go back to the rest of the Sliders now. I'm sure they can use all the extra paws they can get to get these filthy Claws out of our territory." Her voice turned back hard again. Twist wondered, as she watched her walk away, how much of the bubbly, energetic Audrey had been crushed beneath the weight of this tragedy.

Sparrow waited for them patiently, his expression calm and level. He turned without speaking when Declan and Twist caught up to him, and they began to run out once again toward the brook.

Twist almost didn't want to stomach the idea of going to the brook again. Those waters, which had always provided a source of prey for the Sliders, had also cleansed away the enemy that had clotted the forest with so much evil and hate. In Twist's mind, she could still see the blossom of red blood, the bobbing of the Rogue's head as he slipped beneath the water, the eternity-long moment they all stood by the brook and watched the water go by, waiting for the Rogue to reappear. It would always be a memorable place to her now, a place where darkness and light battled and the light finally won.

Twist saw the uplifted, perfectly-triangular ears of a cat standing by the water. She turned to Sparrow. "Wait a moment?" she asked.

To his credit, he didn't look annoyed. "I'll be here."

Lucky was staring out at the water still when she approached, Declan lingering on the rise above. "I know what you are thinking," he said before she said anything at all. "I am here because it is calming, not because I am still looking for him."

"I didn't say anything about that." She lowered herself into a sitting position, looking up at him. She only barely came up to the top of his shoulder. From this angle, she could see a gash that would surely leave a lacing scar up the side of his jaw. He had truly fought for his gang tonight. He had showed his worth as a leader. Those cats would follow him for the rest of their lives now.

Lucky turned to look down at her, his eyes slanted almost closed. "You know, I do not believe I truly saw the evil in him. When we were kits, we were very close. Littermates. Friends. I trusted him with everything." He returned his eyes to the water, his gaze misted with memories. "I never saw it building up within his heart. Not until it was too late." He sighed heavily then, his eyes closing, breathing out through his nose. "I have been a fool. I have left my cats' care in the paws of someone who wished nothing but power from it."

"Where is she now?" Twist asked softly. She hadn't seen Wisp in the Warren.

"I do not know. She was gone by the time I returned to the Warren. I am afraid that she cannot face what she did, how she pitted the two of her kits against each other. I think that is the hardest thing for her, to see the fruits of her labor and know that she failed. I am glad that I do not have the same convictions as she does. At least, not anymore."

"Will you be able to lead the Sliders without her?"

He let out a noncommittal noise at first, then said, "I believe it is possible. With help from others—Viktor, Kent, River and Gravel when we return them to their rightful place in the Warren, which will be very soon—I think I can manage." Then his ears flicked. "It appears that you have worded that question very hesitantly, Twist. What is on your mind?"

"Sparrow has told me the location of my mother."

"And you are going to her? Will you leave the Sliders to stay by her side?"

Twist didn't answer.

The water was calmer now with the disappearing storm. It still churned, the waters a strong gray. It caught thin willow leaves from the other bank and sent them down the brook, floating like feathers on the surface of the water.

"We will miss you," he said finally, reaching out with a paw to catch one as it drifted past. "I will miss you. You are a very courageous cat, Twist."

"I didn't say I was leaving," she protested.

"You did not have to. I saw it on your face." He released his paw, letting the little leaf fall down into the water. His voice lowered as he asked, "Have you informed Declan of your choice yet?"

Twist watched the leaf's passage down through the rough water before she said, her voice barely audible over the sound of the brook, "Not yet."

"Do you intend for him to stay with you?" Lucky asked in a soft voice, the gentlest she'd ever heard him use.

Twist narrowed her eyes. "That's not my decision."

"Is it not?" He sounded amused. Twist looked guiltily away and Lucky sighed theatrically. "Ah, young love. Such a touching thing."

"That's what makes it so much more difficult," she muttered. "I don't know how he'd react if I asked him to come with me. Stay there with me. He really does love the Sliders. It would be selfish of me to make him stay, wouldn't it?"

Lucky put his head to the side, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I believe that Declan wishes to be where you are. After all, it is only natural to want to be near the one that you love. And you do love him, do you not, Twist?" His dark eyes were filled with a gentle amusement.

Twist felt her pelt flush hot. Looking away, she muttered, "That's not what I asked you."

"I am giving you an answer. It is not my fault that you do not accept it."

Twist accepted that with a noncommittal noise. "How could Wisp not have known about him?" Twist asked. "How could she not have known what he was becoming? What she was turning him into?"

"I do not know. It will always remain a mystery. I am more frightened by the fact that I almost became like him, too."

"Do you think he could have changed? I mean, he was a good cat once, right?"

"I do not know whether he was ever truly good. If he started the way he did, he hid it well. I never suspected of the darkness in him until it was too late." He sighed heavily then, that buoyancy he'd been showing before completely gone. "I have caused such loss because of my own inaction. It will not ever be so again. I know that the Sliders and the Claws can never truly befriend each other but perhaps we can simply coexist. I believe that would be best. Sorrow will take control of what is left of the Claws and I will take the Sliders. I see much more reason in her than I ever did in my brother. Perhaps because of her mother." He turned to face her again, a little light in his eyes once more. "Will you return to us eventually? You must understand you will always be welcome among us, Twist. You are as much a Slider as the ones who were born here."

Touched, Twist felt a little warm bubble in her chest. "I… Thank you, Lucky."

He looked a little awkward there, with his new battle scars and ruffled pelt. So much different from the cat she had met so many moon cycles ago. She stood and he remained sitting there. She made it back to Declan's side, pushing her nose into his fur for a moment before turning back to him.

"Lucky?"

"Hm?" He turned his head around, a long gash along the soft of his throat.

"Did he ever have a real name? The Rogue?"

Lucky's eyes flickered somehow, like minnows in murky water. "He did once. I believe he left it behind him when he left behind Wisp and I. It is of no consequence now, at any rate. His name is as gone as he is."

Then he turned back to the river, the sunrise highlighting his silhouette in red and orange fire. And then, as Twist and Declan turned to follow Sparrow back up the side of the hill, he disappeared beneath the swell of the land, concealed from view.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sparrow lead them along a path close to a cluster of no-pelt dens. The air here was warmer, stiller somehow, cut off from the cutting mountain wind that had been bearing down on Twist for so long, she was surprised when it quit. She could see thick, green grass spreading into a tidy sprawl near the dens, separated into tiny white fences with pointed tips. The boards were placed far apart for a cat to squeeze through, unlike the sturdy, solid planks of the Warren's fence.

They were just crossing a small, smooth stoned path, when Sparrow came to a dead stop. He lifted his nose into the air, drinking in scent. "That's strange," he said.

"What's wrong?" Declan asked, but his voice suddenly sounded very far away.

Twist felt her heart stop in her chest. Moving forward on suddenly heavy paws, she stumbled up to a fence and pushed her way through it, her whiskers flattening along her cheeks. She heard Declan call her name but it was as if he was speaking underwater. The scent in the air was a lure, drawing her in, moving her body without her permission. She hadn't smelled it in so long; could it really be true?

The fence ahead of her was blocked with thickly-leaved holly bushes. Twist shoved her way through them, ducking under a branch, her white chest scraping the grass. It was warm here, so warm, and the scent was so strong.

Ahead, she heard the tumbling of small paws.

She froze then. She could hear Sparrow and Declan moving around behind her, looking for her, but she couldn't look away from what she saw right in front of her.

A pair of very green eyes were looking at her.

"Who're you?" the kit asked, her eyes widening even further.

Twist breathed in the smell of that kit. She smelled…so familiar. But she didn't know any kits this young. They were barely older than Streak and his siblings!

She tried to speak but her voice was suddenly tight and dry in her throat. Clearing it, she said softly, "I'm Twist."

The kit looked like she was going to fall over. "Twist! No way!" Then she rushed through the bush and grabbed Twist's paw in her tiny teeth. "Come on! You have to come with me! Come now!" And she turned and darted away.

Twist had no choice but to follow now. Who knew where Declan and Sparrow had gotten to? _Or rather, _she thought, _where have I gotten to?_

The kit was waiting rather impatiently for her. "Come _on!" _she demanded in her high voice. "You're taking forever!" She leapt away again, dancing backwards, keeping those green eyes on Twist.

Such beautiful green eyes.

The kit led her across one long patch of grass in front of a no-pelt home, then another, and another, until they reached one that was a pale tan color, framed by darker brown stripes. There was a large, shady oak tree in the front, its branches dipping down to shelter a group of kits playing. A large cream tomcat sat on the stoop of the door, watching with pleased blue eyes.

He looked over as the kit approached him, arching her back and purring against his leg. "Where have you been? Your mother has been worried sick about you!" Then he glanced up, seeing Twist lingering hesitantly in the half-shadow of the fence. "Anole, who's your friend?" he asked, his voice a bit more wary.

The kit, Anole, mewed, "That's Twist!"

The tomcat's eyes widened. "Please, Twist"—he said her name hesitantly—"wait here." He padded to the door of the no-pelt den, squeezing his large shoulders in through a small flap in the door.

Twist stood awkwardly, knowing her pelt was still ruffled and patchy from fighting. _I must look like a wildcat, _she thought.

Anole didn't particularly seem to mind. She hopped over to Twist on eager paws, eyes glittering in her face. "Would you like to play with us? Me and my brothers?" She tipped her head to gesture to the three kits behind her: two cream-pelted ones and one gray tabby. Anole herself was a very delicate tortoiseshell, mostly white, with one large colorful patch from her shoulders to the base of her tail.

"I don't know how to play," Twist said honestly.

Anole looked less than pleased. "Then you can just stand there, I guess. Hey, come on!" she called. "Let's play tail-catch!"

The three toms bumbled over and they began to circle Twist, their eyes sharp on her tail. With some amusement, she flicked it up out of their reach, enjoying how they gave little play-growls, pouncing at her. How simple and beautiful their life must be, Twist thought, with that same lucid calmness.

"Twist?" The tom called her, his voice a little low.

Twist turned to see him standing by the flap door, but he wasn't alone. Beside him stood a breaktakingly beautiful she-cat, her pelt a pale and silky tortoiseshell. Her legs, scarred by battles from so many seasons ago, were long and slender. Her ears, perfect save for one notch at the top of one, were tipped forward attentively. Her eyes were a deep green, like a mossy pool.

"Twist," she said, choked.

"Mother," Twist whispered, and ran to her.

* * *

**A lot happened in this chapter, huh? I wanted it to have a very snapshot feel to it - passing moment by moment - so hopefully it reached close to that. XD**

**I...I don't really know what to say now. I'm at a loss for words.**

**Oh, wait. Right, the bad news.**

**Um, this is the last chapter. Like, that's the end, right there.**

**...**

**...**

**...**

**Did I get you? XD You should have seen the looks on your virtual faces!**

**See, that's how Shiver by Maggie Steifvater ended and that was terrible. The ending, not the book, which was incredibly good. Who ends something like that?**

**No, I'm ending it next chapter. For serious. : D**

**It's gonna be one long, gut-wrenching, heartbreakingly memorable ending. _Maybe._**

**But yeah, one chapter to go! Should be up either tonight or tomorrow - whichever catches my fancy!**

**Ta!**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	31. Chapter 31

**Sorry it's taken me so long. I was sick and then I had to go spend time with my brother and then it was Shark Week. I love you guys, but I can talk to you all year round. Shark Week only comes once.**

**It amuses me, on a sidenote, how Shark Week is split almost evenly into "Sharks are beautiful, amazing, and powerful hunters that should be respected!" and "OH MY GOD, this one time, I was almost eaten by a shark!" XD**

**Also, it's four-thirty in the morning here and I'm still awake. God, I hate insomnia. *_***

**Mintheart - Yeah, but now it really is the last chapter. XD And yes! A sequel is on the way! More about that in my bottom AN!**

**LarkspiritOfThunderClan - Heehee~! I get so few times when I can trick so many people that I just _have _to take advantage of it. XD And sequel? Hmmm~ You might wanna check the bottom AN~!**

**Squirrelheart - Heehee! I can almost feel your excitement. I approve. X3**

**Rapidfeather - This chapter is super long! Just for you! (And possibly also because I had so much fun writing it. X3)**

**Amazingly Awesome Person - I know. Us Americans. We always have to be different, just because. I think it's because of that whole revolt-from-Britain thing. XD Aaaaw, but I LOVE twists! But there are no more...or are there? Muahahahahahaha!**

**Queen of the Pens - Aaaw, the effect could have been so good, too! Darn you for skimming! XD Total JK. I won't try and get you guys again. Or will I? -mysterious music-**

**LegendaryHero - Eeeeeh! Unpleasable, Hero! Unpleasable! It makes me both a little bit frustrated and mostly determined. One day, probably in the sequel, I will have a chapter that will be so amazing that you will love every single word of it! Mark my words! XD I wanted the ending to be very abrupt and very unexpected. It totally would have been cliche for them to hike back up the mountain and like, not even find her or whatever. Imagine that the entire time, through this whole story, Spirit has just been _there _waiting for the right moment. I think that's a lot more agonizing - knowing that she was close the entire time - than to have them go on some kind of exodus up the mountain. XD Plus, writing mountain scenes are kind of boring. XD**

**Before The Winter's Dawn - Ugh, I am so over Congress. Actually, the entire system. I'm an independant but I don't very much like anyone in the offices right now. I think it would just be best if we got rid of all the men and let women rule the country. XD Hee! I didn't think of the Rogue and the brook! Although there is a deep kind of irony that what protected him before turned out to betray him. It says loads about his kithood. Actually, let's just pretend I intended that symbolism. XD **

**tufted titmouse - Oh man! Even I'm not that cruel! XD**

**ponyiowa - Yay indeed! Lots of angst coming right up! XD**

**artemis7337 - I tried to make my name so I wouldn't have to remember any numbers. Before it was this, it was Shadow Before The Storm, but that's too many words. XD I wanted the Rogue's death to be very abrupt where everyone was just kinda like, "Huhwhat?" XD About the kit think, I know. I needed some kind of plot device to get Twist back over there and I didn't want her to just stumble upon Spirit. I guess it's choosing one cliche over the other. XD **

**theDiabolical - Yaaaaaaaaaay for no banning! My parents always used to do that to me when I was younger and got in trouble! XD **

**XxJabberjayxX - Heehee~! Your review made me giggle in fangirlish glee. I'm so happy that you like this story so much. That's really the best praise, just knowing that someone loves it. X3 Haha, I can imagine that ending: "I love you." "I love you." THE END! That would be dreadful. XD **

**XKajarX - Heehee! Thank you! But there's gonna be a sequel~! :D**

**Icestar0921 - I know. I was making a joke. The internet really needs to come up with a sarcasm font. XD And isn't it too bad? D:**

**Ravenshade - I did try butterbeer! I have to say, though, I didn't much like it. It tasted kind of like really thick cream soda with, like, cinnamon in it or something. XD Although I did very much enjoy eating at the Three Broomsticks. The last time I went there with my friend, we actually saw Celine Dion in there. She was just eating in there like a normal person! I couldn't believe it! XD Hee! I'm glad you liked Salvation's ending. This one won't be nearly as depressing, though, I can promise you that. XD OH GOD NO. Not Nyan Cat! (Though have you heard the "smooth jazz" version? XD)**

**Tangleflame - I love how you threaten me with death and then put a smiley face. XD But no worries, Tangle-chaaaan! We gonna be havin' a sequel. :D**

**Crowstorm - Yeah, I tend to lose some of the drama because I write so fast, I think. I get one of these chapters cranked out in like two hours maybe, and I sit and do them straight. Perhaps I should break them up more. XD **

**Emberspark - You know what I love? Your penname. XD And I shall write more! No worries! :D**

**pieinyaface - I know, I'm so mean to her. XD**

**Okay, and onto the story! For the last time in Sidestep. :(**

* * *

After caresses and licks and overjoyed greetings and that heart-mending reunion of mother and daughter, Twist felt like she could positively fly. Her paws were so light as she sat down there in the shade of that oak tree, the warm breeze coasting over her whiskers, tugging her fur gently, the sounds of kits at play in the background.

And her mother, Spirit, in front of her.

She was so lovely. Everything about her was warm, soft, comforting. Everything but the scars that lurked just beneath her silky pelt, and on the front paw that was wounded from a battle before Twist had been born. Twist drank in the sight of her, so familiar after so long apart.

"My dearest heart," Spirit murmured fondly, and Twist felt her heart swell up into her throat. "How is it possible that you've found me?"

And so Twist talked. She started with her journey down the mountain, into those cold, dark woods at the bottom, to the old no-pelt house she had lived in for a few days. She told her mother about the Sliders and the Claws, the enmity between them—that fierce, corrosive hate that had corrupted the hearts of those on both sides. She talked about Lucky and the Rogue, their history—Braiser's involvement, at which Spirit began to look a little ill—and of her friends in the Sliders—both those who were still there and those who had yet to be rescued from the Claws. She talked about Vivian and Kip, Audrey and Snit, Viktor and Kite.

And Declan.

Twist didn't miss the way her mother's green eyes glowed at his name. And even though she had never met him before, she wore a fond expression when Twist spoke of him, as if the two of them were old friends.

Finally, Twist was finished. Her throat ached from the strain of the words—both the physical strain and the one it put on her heart—but every word felt precious to her. Her history, she thought. Her life.

Spirit stretched out a paw to cover Twist's when she finished. "You have been so brave, Twist," she said. "Such a strong, beautiful she-cat you've grown to be while I wasn't there. I am so proud of you."

Twist dropped her eyes to where her mother's snowy paw was. "But…Mother, where have you been? I went down the mountain to find you. I searched for you. And after all this time…you've been so close. It took barely any time at all to get here from the Warren. Have you really been here so long? And how were you captured by the Claws in the first place? Why didn't you fight to free yourself? Why didn't you come looking for me? I've missed you so much!"

Spirit's eyes softened, dark like grass in the end of the warm season. "I'll tell you everything. Anything you want to hear. Where would you like me to begin?"

"From the beginning. How did you get caught by the Claws?"

Spirit settled down onto her belly, motioning for Twist to do the same. The big cream tom had gone over to the kits and ushered them away, beneath the shelter of a holly bush further across the lawn.

"After I came down the mountain—after your…your father fell off the cliff—I was lost. I couldn't find where I was supposed to go. I knew I had to stay away from the mountain out of fear of the gang's retribution—they clearly thought that I had been the one to kill Braiser. I couldn't go back home so I had to do the next best thing: find a new one. I had to stay close to the side of the mountain, I knew that. How else would you be able to find me once you had followed me? So I found a little cave in the overhang of a cliff and settled down there, prepared to wait however long it took for you to join me.

"It was deep in the bitter cold season. I could feel it creeping into my bones. I couldn't stay warm by myself, not for very much longer. I had to find some sort of company to help myself stay alive." She pulled a face then, surprising Twist. "As if I wanted to do anything _less."_

_She's just like me, _Twist remembered. _She never wanted to rely on anyone either. She wanted to make it on her own, her own way. She had the gang's mentality sunk deeper into her mind than I ever did._

"I went into the woods and found cat scent. I followed it. The deeper I went into the forest, the stronger it got. I didn't notice anything was wrong at first. I didn't notice that the tracks I was following were bitter with the scent of fear.

"I stumbled right into their paws. A group of them—Claw guards—leapt out at me and pinned me down. They were covered in mud, their pelts thick and shaggy, stinking of pine needles and water. They brought me to their leader, some tabby with his head in the clouds. He spoke so slowly, formally. I didn't trust him for a heartbeat."

"They kept you in the caves, didn't they?" Twist asked softly. "The cliffs."

Spirit nodded, looking away. The fur on her shoulders was bristling. "It was cold. And dark. I had no company." Her lip curled. "No _wanted _company anyway. Braiser. He felt the need to continuously plague me with his presence. As if he couldn't understand that I didn't want to see him anymore. As if he couldn't understand that I couldn't bear to look at his horrific face." She shuddered at that.

So did Twist. "He's dead now."

Spirit blinked. She turned her head away for a long moment, so that Twist couldn't see her face. "I'm glad," she said finally, softly.

Twist wasn't sure if she really meant it. Lowering her head, trying to meet her mother's eyes, she asked, "How could you have loved him in the first place?"

"I was young. We met when he joined up with my gang. He was charming, handsome, ambitious. I didn't want to be attracted to him, I didn't want to love him. I didn't want to love anyone. A mountain cat looks after only herself, that's the rule. Even before Braiser joined up, I knew the rules. And I broke every single one of them to be with him. I wanted him to love me. I wanted him to look at me and know that I wanted him. And I wanted him to want me, too." She sighed heavily, shifting her weight. "I was young. Young and stupid. We fell in love. Completely, unconditionally. The forever kind, I always thought. And so I supported him in every way."

She turned to Twist then, her eyes entreating. "Twist, you must understand. When you love someone, you love all of them. You can't pick and choose what to love and what not to. You love everything about them. Their faults and weaknesses, their hopes and desires. Even the monster hidden where nobody but you can see it."

"You don't…love him now, do you?" Twist asked hesitantly. It was strange, she thought as a complicated expression crossed her mother's face, how much Spirit seemed like a stranger to her now. She had never wavered in asking her a question before, even if it had been about Braiser. Her mother had always been open to her, always, but now it had been so long that it felt the time had formed a physical barrier between them.

Spirit's face fell into a speculative look. "You know, I was about your age when he and I met. Maybe a little younger. That leaves a mark on someone."

"You didn't answer the question."

Spirit heaved a sigh, her head to the side. "It's a difficult question, Twist. And I can't answer it the way you want me to. I know you want me to say that I hate him, that he's horrific. Evil. But I can't say that because I honestly loved him. I loved him with my entire heart. And I believed in him. When that happens to you, Twist…it changes you. I'm only the way I am today because I loved him and he loved me. It places a mark on your heart so deeply that you can never fully be rid of it."

Twist looked down at her paws. A mark on your heart. Is that what Declan was to her? Was his presence so deeply pressed into her bones that he was always with her? Even now, half of her mind was dedicated to him. Could that mean that she would love him forever? She certainly couldn't imagine a life without him now. She could barely remember the cat she had been so long ago, in that dark time before she'd met him. Was she going to be like Spirit one day?

Though to be like her, Declan would have to die. And Twist shuddered away from that thought, her mind rejecting it before the thought was even fully formed.

"Of course I can never feel about Braiser the way I did before." Spirit's voice broke Twist out of her thoughts. "And I never have to again. He's dead."

"Does your new mate know about him?" Twist was surprised when she heard the bitterness in her own voice. She hadn't felt anything towards the big cream tom, not since he had brought her mother out, but now a kind of seething jealousy overtook her. Spirit should have been looking for her, she thought, not settling down with a mate and a new litter of kits.

And now Spirit's reluctance vanished. Her eyes a very clear green, she said, "Teddy knows everything. I don't have any secrets from him."

"But you do from your new kits?" Twist felt kittish herself for speaking like that, now so flat and emotionless. Like the jealousy and anger inside of her weren't bubbling to the surface.

Spirit's temper came into her eyes, Twist could see it; she had seen it enough in her own reflection to recognize it in her mother. "This isn't like you, Twist."

"I was searching for you, remember?" she asked roughly. "I never stopped looking for you until I was captured, first by the Sliders, then the Claws. I didn't give up on you."

Spirit's eyes widened. "You think I _gave up _on you?" she whispered.

Twist felt ashamed immediately. It was like when she was young and her mother had scolded her gently for playing too roughly with Stripes. "From the outside, it would appear so." This wasn't anything like she'd planned. She had never wanted to feel this way towards her mother, the first cat she had ever completely trusted, loved. She didn't want to sound like the reject, the kit left behind in favor of this new litter. She knew it was foolish and selfish and stupid but she couldn't help it.

Spirit's paw retracted from the top of Twist's then. "If you think that, then you're wrong. In my entire life, Twist, you are the one I loved the most. You are the most precious thing to me. Why do you think I never went back up the mountain, Twist? You think I haven't been looking for you? You think that I haven't been keeping myself here, hoping and praying every night that you would find me? By some stroke of blind luck, that you would come falling right back into my paws, safe and warm once more? It _killed _me to leave you up on that mountain with them. I've never done something I regret so much as leaving you there when you were still so young, right after…such a shock." She swallowed hard, closing her eyes. "I've never felt more ashamed of myself for running. I told myself that it was for you, for your protection, but it wasn't enough. It will never feel to me like it was worth it, to leave my only kit defenseless with a gang that I had grown to hate. It was worse than I could have ever imagined. I would have rather died.

"But I didn't. I couldn't. I had to keep living, stay strong, for you. That's why I went into the forest. That's why I escaped from them, with the help of a cat thousands of times braver than the rest of his gang. But when I got out of their grasp, I was so weak. I was starving, nothing but a pelt across bones. I wasn't going to make it.

"It was still snowing. I walked as far as I could, thinking if I could get back to the mountainside into that little cave, you would be able to find me. I stumbled through the snow forever. It was blinding me, freezing me from the inside out. My paw caught something and I was on the ground suddenly. It was snowing so gently it seemed to me. It spiraled down on me, covering me. I felt myself sink into such warm darkness that I almost didn't want to wake up. I wanted sleep to take me so I wouldn't hurt anymore."

Spirit shook herself then. "I woke up in the warm looking up into the brightest blue eyes I'd ever seen. Teddy had found me in the snow and brought me to his housefolk. They took me in, fed me, kept me, healed me. Teddy was so gentle to me. I am…not the easiest cat to get along with, as you know. But he was persistent and patient. Slowly, I opened to him, and he to me, and he was beautiful inside. So unlike Braiser. So unlike me." She looked over to where he was now, bundling a kit up into the air with all four paws. "He is such a gentle cat. I don't deserve him."

"And your kits?" Twist asked.

"A few moon cycles later, we had a new little family, Teddy and I. He was so happy, so proud. I loved him all the more for it." She turned her head back to Twist. "But that doesn't mean I ever forgot about you, Twist. You are, after all, my dearest heart, aren't you?" Her eyes sparkled.

And all at once, Twist knew she was forgiven for her loss of temper, that thoughtless jealousy. And Twist knew her mother understood her, too. She knew how Twist had been hurting so badly.

Spirit got to her paws and leaned over. Twist closed her eyes as her mother licked her gently between the ears, as if she was still a very young kit. "Come and meet your brothers and sister," she said softly.

Twist stood at once.

The kits turned to look at them as they approached. Teddy, covered in kits, gently pushed them off and stepped to Spirit's side, leaning into her flank in a subtle gesture of affection.

"Is everything alright?" he murmured, his words only for Spirit.

She pressed her cheek into his shoulder in response. "Everybody," she said to the kits, "this is a very special cat."

"That's Twist!" the little tortoiseshell Anole piped up.

Her brothers looked immediately interested. "The one you tell us about all the time, Mother?" one asked, the only gray tom.

"That's right."

They swarmed over to Twist at once, sniffing her, nibbling at her legs. "You don't smell like us," Anole pointed out in a rather annoyed voice. She wrinkled her little nose. "You smell like wildcats."

"I'm practically a wildcat," Twist teased.

Anole blinked up at her. Then she squinted her big green eyes. "You look a lot like Mother," she declared.

"She does not!" one of her brothers protested. "She's too dark! Look at her fur! She's nearly black!"

"She's got Mother's expression," Anole corrected herself, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, don't listen to them, Twist, because I have decided that I like you." She said this all in a very businesslike tone of voice.

Twist purred a little. "I guess that's an honor."

Anole lifted her chin. "It is. I don't like just anybody, you know."

"You just like her because now you have a sister," the same gray tabby brother whispered.

"She's your sister, too!" Anole turned on him, fur bristling. "It's not just me! You should be just as happy!"

Teddy let out a rumbling purr, much deeper than Twist's had been. "Calm down now, Anole. No need to get all worked up."

Spirit was laughing as her kits tussled, glancing over to lock eyes with Twist. In those shimmering green depths, Twist realized that she had never seen her mother so happy. She was truly at peace here, relaxed and joyous in a way the mountains had never made her. The mother Twist had always imagined in her head was a strong warrior, a gentle-tongued she-cat with eyes only for her. Now that she had grown up, Twist could see that Spirit's temper was softened far more than Twist thought she could ever be.

She felt a little prickle of envy for her mother's easy life here. Though soon, she thought, it would be her life, too.

Though she still hadn't completely decided that, she realized once again. What was she going to do when she saw Declan again? How could she explain to him that her place was here with her mother? Did that mean she couldn't be with him? Did she have to give up being with him to be with her mother?

_That has always been the plan, _she thought, her pelt crawling with anxiety. _It has always been that way. I've known since the start that I was going to go with my mother. It's where I belong. Declan belongs…_

She almost thought _with me. _But it couldn't be that way. She couldn't force him to stay with her, even if she wanted it more than anything. Even if she would give up everything to be with him.

Spirit was still laughing when she turned to look behind her, an edge coming into her eyes. Her fur bristled as she turned, not moving her gaze from where she was staring with a growing ferocity, reminding Twist of the cat she had been so long ago. "Who are you?" she demanded roughly.

Twist followed her eyes, a jolt so strong it felt like she'd been dropped in ice water coursing through her.

At the edge of the fence, half in shadow, stood Declan. He was hunched, his head low, placating in territory that didn't belong to him, and his tail was matted from travel but Twist didn't think she had ever seen him look more handsome.

Without looking back at her mother, she flew to him, tail up. She pressed her cheek up against his jaw, purring loudly. It was strange, she thought, even though she had only been away from him for a short while, how much she had missed him. How the empty space in her heart had filled when he had made his appearance.

"You found me," she murmured against his fur.

He ducked his head even further to press his forehead against hers, his chest rumbling with a purr. "You didn't make it easy for me. Sparrow had to lead the way. I'm afraid of my list of extraordinary talents, scent-tracking is absent."

Only then did Twist even notice Sparrow behind Declan. He looked awkward standing there, like he didn't want to be here. His eyes were warily fixed on the family of cats behind Twist. "Spirit," he greeted in a low voice.

Spirit led the way across the empty space of the peaceful grass, her mate and kits following. Her eyes flicked between Sparrow's, searchingly, before she said, "You've grown strong, Sparrow."

Sparrow turned his head away, just enough to take the edge off his marked eyes. "Not as strong as I would have wanted," he said softly.

"You have a good heart. You saved my life. I'll owe you for that forever, Sparrow."

"As will I," Teddy said, in his even voice. "Thank you."

Sparrow looked embarrassed—and confused. "I don't deserve your praise," he said, his voice stilted. "I allowed them to do…horrible things to you. I stood by and did nothing when they kept you hidden in the cliffs. I didn't say anything when they—" He cut himself off, turning his head sharply away now. "If anything, you should hate me. I might have let you escape but I will never be fully rid of my own crimes. I have to live with them. Helping you barely does anything to change that."

Spirit ducked her head to look into his eyes. "You're wrong," she said softly. "You are stronger than you think. You're a very brave cat. No one in the entirety of the Claws helped me but you. You were good, kind. You're the best of them. Don't change. Don't hurt yourself anymore. You don't deserve it." She took in a deep breath. "And besides, it's over. All of it. There's no need for you to be like this anymore. Make a new life for yourself."

Sparrow, head still low, turned his eyes to her, and there was guilt and sorrow in that marked gaze. "I can't," he whispered.

Spirit touched her nose gently to his forehead, like a kit, and she said, "I believe in you. You can do whatever you want. Don't allow hate to cloud your heart."

Sparrow's eyes were half-lidded, as if she was putting him into a trance.

She stepped back to Teddy's side, twining her tail with his with an ease that seemed long-practiced. "I wish you would come and visit me again, Sparrow."

Sparrow ducked his head further. To his paws, he mumbled, "Perhaps I will." He glanced up to Declan and Twist, that pain sharpening in his eyes. "I am so sorry for what I did to you. I…I'll beg for your forgiveness if that's what it takes. On my father's behalf." He paused. "And on my own."

"There's no need for that. It's all in the past," Declan said, but there was an undercurrent in his voice of something that made Twist wonder what he was really thinking.

When Sparrow turned to her, his eyes entreating, Twist said the hardest words she'd ever had to say in her life: "I forgive you."

Sparrow sighed then, letting out a huge breath of relief. "Thank you," he said, sounding genuine. He dipped his head low in respect, then turned and fled into the forest, his dark pelt swallowed up the shadows almost immediately.

Spirit watched him, her expression unfathomable, before she turned away. Looking down at her kit, the gray tabby, she said, "Aren't you glad we named you after such a brave cat, Sparrow?"

The little tom, Sparrow, curled his tail over his back. His eyes were still on where his namesake had disappeared. "Yes," he said, admiration in his voice.

Spirit purred, licking his forehead. Then she turned again, her eyes taking in Declan. "So you're the tom I've heard so much about?"

Declan shrugged modestly, his eyes lit with good humor. "I suspect that I haven't lived up to your expectations. Assuming Twist here has told you her side of the story."

Spirit laughed. "You're funny. I like that. Come on, come lay in the shade. We have so much talking to do."

Declan spared Twist an amused look before he followed after Spirit back beneath the old oak tree.

They all settled down into the warm grass, letting the filtered light between leaves come down and soak into their pelts. In the background, the kits' cheerful playing filled the air, along with the calls of blackbirds flying overhead. The sky was beautiful after the storm, a clear solid blue, with just wisps of tattered clouds soaring softly by. The smell of rain left just enough of a trace to be refreshing, clearing Twist's mind of the scent of blood.

Twist lay close to Declan on her belly. _I'm not going to see him as often, _she thought miserably, _so I might as well get in as much time with him as I can. _

Teddy took up a huge patch of grass with his long legs and wide shoulders. He was nearly twice Declan's size. "Spirit has told me so much about you, Twist," he said in his low, gentle voice. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Y-you too," Twist stuttered out, surprised. "I'm glad that you've taken such good care of my mother."

Spirit scoffed. "Taken care of me!" she echoed. "I don't need taking care of!"

Teddy purred. "Sometimes you do. Don't you deny it."

Spirit huffed again, but her whiskers were twitching with amusement. "I don't think so."

Twist laughed. It was so light here, so simple. Just being in her mother's presence was so amazing. It was like she could breathe again.

They talked late into the afternoon. The sun began to sink lower in the sky, the light turning a brilliant orange and pink. Lights flickered on in the no-pelt houses down the street, one by one, until they were all glowing such a warm yellow light. Twist felt so safe here, secure. It must have been her mother's presence, she thought, because when the no-pelt opened the door and called for Teddy and Spirit to come in, Twist's fear racketed up.

Before she could think, she had flung herself backwards into a holly bush, her heart hammering in her chest. Shifting around, she met warm fur and knew that Declan had had the exact same response. Surprised, she glanced over at him. Hadn't he been a pet?

But then the no-pelt was outside and Twist couldn't stop staring. It was so…pink. Hairless except for a gray patch on its head and another beneath its nose, it came stooping out into the yard, clapping its large, nimble paws. Instead of running, like Twist had, her mother's kits flocked to the no-pelt, stretching up on their hind legs to grip on the strange pelt that hung down its legs. After another moment, Teddy followed, purring loudly.

Only Spirit remained behind. She turned to Twist, head to the side. Twist recognized the look in her mother's eyes—she had seen it enough hunting with Spirit in the mountains: _Coming or not?_

Declan said, so softly, "You should go with her."

A sick feeling twisted up inside her ribcage. She whipped her head up to look at him, seeing his eyes go so gentle. "What?" she rasped.

That soft expression on Declan's face was breaking her heart. "She's waiting for you," he whispered. "This is what you've wanted. You've always wanted to be back with her. And there she is, right now, waiting for you. You should go."

Twist felt like there was no air in her lungs. All of her emotions seemed caught in her throat, blocking her words. "But what about you?" she managed to get out, her voice barely above a whisper.

He put his head to one side gently; a holly leaf grazed along his ear. "Don't worry about me, Twist. This is your mother. I understand that. I know how you've been hurting for her." He took a deep sort of weight breath, the sound a little uneven. "I can be alone again. I was alone for a long time before I met you. I can do it again. Or I can go back to the Sliders. I'm sure they'll have me." He ducked his head so that their eyes were on the same level. "What's important to me is your happiness. I've never seen you happier than I have this afternoon. That's all I need to know. So go. Go with her."

"I…" Twist didn't know what to say. She had been thinking about this conversation for so long, playing it and replaying it over and over again in her head, but it hadn't been like this. She had been trying for so long to find a way to break it to Declan, to tell him that her mother needed her here, that they'd been apart for so long, but she had never been able to guess his response. She had known that he would be gentle with her but this…

This was unbearable.

Declan backed up a lithe step, placing himself closer to the slats in the fence. He stepped back over them until just his head was still there. The expression in his green eyes was very level, very calm. And that calmness was driving doubt deep into Twist's brain.

_How can I allow him to leave when I love him so much? _

"I'll come back and visit you," Declan said, stepping back again. "And you can visit me. I'll always be around if you want me." His voice was light, conversational.

And Twist didn't believe it for a heartbeat.

"Declan," she said, but no more words would come. Just his name. Always his name.

Something flickered across his eyes, too fast for her to identify it. "Don't be sad," he said softly.

_This is more than sadness, _she thought. This was her heart breaking apart.

He stepped forward just enough to brush his muzzle across her ears, soft and gentle and tender, and then he whispered into her ear, "Just don't forget me. Okay?" On that last word, his voice broke. She heard his sharp intake of breath, whether at his own emotion or at Twist's blank shock, she didn't know. "I'll…I'll see you later, Twist."

"Declan," she whispered again. "Don't—"

But he was already gone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Twist walked on unfeeling paws back to her mother, who had stayed behind the entire time. Declan was gone. He had left her here. Not left her, she feebly tried to correct herself. He had brought her to her mother. What he'd always planned. What they'd always planned, since her capture by the Claws.

What Twist hadn't accounted for was falling in love with him.

Spirit looked concerned at once. Bounding to Twist's side, she asked, "Where's Declan?"

"He—" Twist had to stop to stabilize her voice. "He decided to go back to the Sliders."

Spirit looked shocked. "He…he's not… I mean, you're not—"

"No," Twist said. She straightened her shoulders, looking her mother square in the eyes. "I'm with you now, Mother. I told you I would find you."

"Oh, Twist." Her green eyes were full of sorrow. "You don't need to do this."

And now Twist was confused. "I don't understand," she said slowly. "I want to be with you. I promised. We promised. When I came down from that mountain, all I wanted to do was find you. It's what I've been doing for the past…since you left. I wanted this. I want to do this. I want to be with you, Mother." She dropped her eyes to the ground, squinting them half-closed as if she could fight back the surge of agony that was racing through her.

Spirit's tail flicked out to brush gently down Twist's shoulder. "My dearest heart," she murmured. "You _have _found me. And I will always be with you, just as you will be with me. But"—and now her voice grew even deeper—"that does not mean we always have to be together to be with each other."

Twist raised her eyes to her mother's. "What do you mean?"

"Twist, you've accomplished your mission. You know where I am now. I'll be here for the rest of my life. You can always come and visit me, spend the day. I will never leave you. Not ever." Spirit's lips quirked. "But there is a young tom who is probably very confused right now. You've been sending him some very mixed signals. You're just like me when I was your age. And I'm sure that tom is very heartsick right now."

Twist swallowed hard. "He made his choice." She couldn't even say his name. "And I made mine. It just so happened that we made the same one."

"I didn't raise you to say what you think others want to hear, Twist," Spirit said, now with a little teasing purr in her voice. "I raised you to have your own opinion, your own mind. Your own heart. And what is yours saying right now?"

Twist gritted her teeth as a wave of pain rolled through her. "I don't know," she lied.

Spirit dipped her head to meet Twist's reluctant eyes. "You love him," she whispered.

Twist's mouth was dry, her heart hammering in her chest like a trapped bird. There was absolutely no way that she could deny it now. She didn't want to. "I love you, too."

"It's not the same. You've already proven that you're strong enough to live without me. But something tells me the same is not true for him. Is it?"

Twist just looked at her. She had no defense. Her mother was absolutely right.

Spirit leaned forward and nudged her. "Go on," she whispered, her eyes very bright. "I will always be here for you. Always."

Twist gasped once, her heart swelling almost painfully in her chest, but she welcomed that pain. Pressing her chin against her mother's neck, she whispered, "I love you," against her soft white pelt.

Spirit licked Twist's ears, nuzzling her with that easy affection. "I love you, too. Now go get that tom before he does something stupid."

Twist backed up slowly away from her mother. In the dying light of the sun, Spirit's pelt was a whirl of color—orange, purple, pink, soft grays from the shadows. Beautiful. The image would stick in her memory forever, Twist knew.

Then, before she could change her mind anymore, Twist dove into the holly bushes, squirmed through the fence, and pelted into the forest.

Declan's scent was strong on the long grass here. His track led along the border of the forest, ambled along a rock bed, through tufts of yellowy grass, and then to a field. Twist had never been to this field before—it must have been too far to the side to belong to the Claws. The grass was dying here, preparing for the cold season, and all the flowers were curled into little mats of color—purple, green, blue, soft white—that were soft underfoot.

She came to a rise in the earth and leapt on top of a rock there, scouting the area below for any sign of that distinctive red-brown pelt.

She saw a smudge of motion in the corner of her vision. Turning to it, her eyes fixed upon the point. Taking in a deep breath, she yowled, "Hey, you stupid tom! Where do you think you're going?"

Declan turned to look back, his eyes a very wide and vivid green. "Twist?" she saw his mouth frame.

With a coil of her hind legs, she sprang off of the rock and pelted down the side of the hill towards him, every step of her paws pounding in time with her wildly racing heart.

Declan ran towards her and suddenly they were together and her muzzle was in his fur and his scent was wreathing around her. He purred strongly, the sound vibrating through Twist's bones, though she could barely hear the sound over her beating heart.

When they broke apart, Declan, with shining eyes, asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question!" Twist felt giddy, light as a cloud. She was surprised she could even stand, as it felt like her legs had suddenly turned to river-weeds. "Or do you always trot off into the sunset so dramatically?"

"I mean," he clarified, laughing. "Why are you here and not with your mother?"

Twist said breathlessly, "You think I could just let you walk away after all we've been through? What, do you think I'm a mousebrain? I don't think you can survive on your own without me leading the way. After all, you nearly fell off a mountain, remember?"

Declan's eyes grew so soft. He ran his muzzle across her neck, her throat, and Twist lifted her head to allow it, purring so strongly it was making her throat ache. "You're right about that," he murmured. "I definitely could not survive without you."

Twist's throat felt blocked again. Pushing against him, she whispered against his fur, "I…I don't think I could live without you, either. So?" She tipped her head back to look in his eyes. "How about it? How long do you think you can put up with me?"

Declan pretended to take awhile to think, putting his head from side to side. "I think," he said slowly, before touching his nose gently to hers, "that forever will suffice."

Twist looked straight up into his eyes, that bright beautiful green. _I am not afraid, _her mind whispered. "I love you," she whispered.

Declan's eyes glowed. Dipping his head shyly, he said, "I can't tell you how thrilled I am that you said it first. I've been trying to tell you for nearly a moon now and I couldn't work up the guts to do it."

"No!" she said, shocked.

"It's true. Ever since you were captured, I knew. I couldn't understand it at first, why I was so desperate to get you back. I knew you were important to me, but…I just couldn't comprehend it. All of a sudden, there seemed like a huge gap opened up in me that I had never noticed before and I knew that I had to get you back or die trying. And I almost did a few times. Be grateful," he added, teasingly.

And Twist was grateful. More than she could ever say. "I knew when you broke the smoke treatment," she murmured. "When that recognition came back. And then when we were fighting…" She broke off.

"Yeah," Declan said softly, winding his tail with hers. "Yesterday, you started trying to push me away."

"You said being with me was difficult," she whispered, feeling the ache of that old pain mix with the ecstasy of her confession.

He looked stunned. "And you thought that meant that being _together _with you was difficult?" he asked incredulously.

Twist widened her eyes. "Uh, yes? What else could you have possibly meant?"

He rolled his eyes, groaning. "I meant that I felt so…different being with you. And you don't ever tell me anything! I always have to guess what you're thinking!"

"Well, I didn't know what you were saying!" she exclaimed. "You need to be clearer about these things! I could have saved a lot of time telling you that I loved you back when I thought we were going to die!"

"Okay, well let me set the record straight right now." He padded right in front of her, his eyes suddenly serious. He took in a deep breath. "Twist, I would like you to know that I am deeply, irreversibly, completely, and hopelessly in love with you. And I want us to be together forever."

Twist's heart felt suddenly warm in her chest. Her breathing accelerating, she whispered, "You really mean it?"

"More than anything I've ever said," he announced, bouncing a little from paw to paw, kit-like almost in his exuberance. "So I'd really like you to say yes."

"Yes to what?" she asked, confused.

He slanted his eyes down at her, looking remarkably like he had the time they had first met. "Yes to staying with me forever."

And Twist stepped forward, brushing her muzzle up into his thick white throat fur, feeling the last warmth of the sun settling onto her back and the soft grass beneath her paws, and whispered, "Yes."

* * *

**Aaaw. I do love writin' da fluff. :D**

**So that's the end of Sidestep. I really hope you guys liked it. I'm so happy that so many people reviewed and read - or lurked and read - this. It's by far my most reviewed one. I have to tell you guys: we've been through a lot, you guys and I, and I've come to the realization that...I love you. All of you. Yes, even you, lurkers. You guys always make my day. Some of you have been with me since Sunrise - the trainwreck that that was - and now to have gotten to know some of you guys through reviews and replies, it's just...so nice. I appreciate you giving a little of your time every so often to review poor old Shadow's silly little kitty stories. You guys rock!**

**So I've got the idea for the sequel. It's going to be called "FLOAT" to keep with this motion-theme I've got here and it'll be another 100K. That bad boy's gonna be HUUUUUUUUGE.**

**Also, if you wanna get prepped for it while I take a day or two off to write it, you might want to check out the song "Shattered" by Trading Yesterday. It might help you understand what's gonna be going down in Float. Not that I'm basing the plot of the story off of it or anything. -shifty eyes- **

**I have to tell you, it was rather amazing how Float came to me. It was the whole plot, start to finish, while I was at a red light today. "Shattered" was playing in the background and all of a sudden, it just popped into my head, in one big long shiny piece like a puzzle. It's gonna be quite the ride, guys.**

**So when I get the first chapter up, I'll pop another AN on this sucker so you guys know and don't have to go trolling for it or whatever. I'll make it easy on ya. ;)**

**It's been a good ride. I hope you guys stick around for the sequel and make my day every time I heard that little ding when I get a review.**

**Also, don't forget: Whoever gets that lucky 300th review gets to tell me what to write a oneshot about! Anything you'd like, as long as it's Warriors, it's not freaking weird, and it doesn't involve this latest series of books. XD**

**Love you guys! **

**You know what to do.**

**For the last time (D:):**

**R&R~**

**Shadow**


	32. Chapter 32

And then Twist and Declan had adventures. They had so many fun adventures that they had fun. And then after that, they went home.

* * *

**-EDIT- **

**God, the unwanted sniffer dogs have been trolling the fic banks again. So, for the rules police, here you go. Three highly unwanted and unnecessary lines to avoid getting my whole story taken down over some petty BS - make sure to count them so I don't violate Rule 2 under Entries. **

**I'd say you're welcome but you're _very _unwelcome on my fics. Next time, before you go post on your adorable little forum thread, how 'bout manning or womanning up (in this case, clearly little boying or girling up), having an ounce of courtesy, and sending out a PM to the author first? **

**But thanks again for upping my review count. How thoughtful of you. **

**-END EDIT-**

**Hey, everyone!**

**Float's first chapter is up! I guess you can just go to my profile and get it that way. XD**

**No need to review this AN unless you want to - or you want to up my reviews, which is also good. :D**

**Hopefully, I'll see you guys over there! :D**

**Shadow**

**(Also, tufted titmouse, in case you didn't notice...you won. XD You're the 300th reviewer! You get to pick what I write a oneshot about. Woot for you! And woot for me! XD More about this in the bottom AN of Float's first chapter.)**


End file.
